


back at the beginning

by ikindaneedahero, thiscitychick (ikindaneedahero)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Everyone is Dead, Fix-It of Sorts, Good Lucius Malfoy, Hermione Is A Lestrange, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pureblood Hermione Granger, the gang's all here, until they're not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:34:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23670142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikindaneedahero/pseuds/ikindaneedahero, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikindaneedahero/pseuds/thiscitychick
Summary: By May, Voldemort is dead. Come July, almost everyone else is dead. A rescue plan is hatched with little more than a sliver of hope, international cooperation and 107 time-turners.*Time-traveling Marauders AU with pureblood Hermione*
Relationships: Regulus Black/Hermione Granger
Comments: 68
Kudos: 288





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is what you get when you mix a pandemic, the inability to find a fic that hits everything you’re looking for, wanting to work up a real explanation for time travel, and rewarding yourself for working through the pandemic. I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Also… a long intro here. This fic will be pretty fluffy, funny, and lovely. There will be tons of characters weaved in and out of here. Three cheers for the redemption of characters who won’t have to be redeemed in this verse :) As always… comments, thoughts, predictions, desires…

July 7, 1998

“Thank you for meeting us today,” Kingsley Shacklebolt said solemnly, nodding at the trio of exhausted men across the table from him and his comrades.

“What choice did we have?” Thoros Nott muttered, receiving a dark look from Lucius.

“Right,” Kingsley answered with a terse nod. “We fought in a war that has taken thousands of our kind over the past fifty years. Now, the war has been over for two months only for a mystery disease to take out essentially every witch or wizard that was left under the age of 25. Does that sum it up?”

“We’re quite aware, Shacklebolt. My son is dead. Lucius’ son is dead. Almost everyone we know is dead after the war, Shacklebolt. Thankfully we’ll all be gone soon at this rate,” Thoros said, spitting as he spoke.

Arthur Weasley let out a dry sob at the man’s brash words, thinking of his seven children he and Molly had buried since May. There were no Weasleys left.

“That is where we’re headed,” Kingsley replied. “What if I told you there was a chance to fix everything? That we could come together and stop this curse, even ensure that the wars never occurred?”

“And how would you suggest doing that?” Lucius said, his blond hair greasy and his pale skin almost transparent.

“I ask that you allow me to speak before editorializing,” Kingsley replied, looking the three men across from him in the eyes and receiving nods.

“There are 19 witches and wizards under 25 left in Britain and the Longbottom boy looks as though he won’t make it through the day. Only 287 on the entire continent. Despite abstaining from our wars, there are many in Europe who share your… resolution over blood purity. I’ve joined with leaders on what we believe is the only solution to save our people. That’s where you come in. Tell me, what do you see as the downfall of our world?”

“Muggleborns,” Nott, Malfoy and Augustus Rookwood stated at the same time.

“The Spanish, Italian, German, Hungarian and Russian ministers, among others, would agree,” Kingsley muttered. “Humor us. Explain why.”

“Everyone’s dead yet you still act like you weren’t rubbing elbows with us in school,” Lucius said with an icy glare. “Muggleborns come into our society without trying to understand our customs and upend the traditions that have served us well for generations. Then, as we know, their families are under no obligation to keep our world quiet and every second cousin and ex-dalliance is brought in on our secrets leaving us unguarded.” Lucius slammed his fists on the table. “And now, we have nineteen fucking witches and wizards to bear our next generation because a mudblood threw a party and a muggle virus has killed almost everyone including my son!”

“So what the bloody fuck are we doing here?” Rookwood roared.

“If you could choose today, knowing what you know now… would you support Voldemort?” Aberforth Dumbledore asked, piping up for the first time.

“Doesn’t much matter, does it?” Nott asked.

“It does,” Shacklebolt answered. “Our plan is two-fold and every other nation is already on board. It hinges on your agreement to move ahead. This is where I ]need you to shut your bloody mouths and let me speak.”

Silence met the man.

“We’d send Rookwood back to 1925 to kill Merope Gaunt before she gave birth. A pair of German aurors has already agreed to go back to 1901 to kill a teenage Gellert Grindelwald due to the uncertainty of a time-turner’s ability to head back to 1883. Avada the fuckers before it even begins.”

Kingsley held up a finger as the man in question tried to speak.

“But first, we need the time-turners left in the Department of Mysteries. Don’t tell me that they were destroyed, I already know that’s not true. After we have the time-turners, we’ll send the adults who are still alive back to 1960… rebuild our generation to what it could have been without a war.”

“Why not send them back to 1980 so they could relive their own lives without the Dark Lord’s presence?” Lucius asked with a scoff as though the man were an idiot.

“If you’d let me finish, I’d answer that. How many pure lines, not just Sacred 28, were extinct by the time we’d begun our first year?”

“Too many to count. Peverell, Gaunt, Burke, Shafiq… if we add in those who died out soon after? Rosier, Selwyn, Prewett, Prince... Purebloods have long been a dying breed,” Nott stated with a miserable shake of his head.

“Europe has seen the same trend. The only solution we can agree on is to de-age them before sending them back to 1960 and having pure families perform an adoption bloodrite. Voila, as the muggles say.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” Lucius said with the shake of his head, moving to stand up from the table. “This is ludicrous.”

“Malfoy, do you not understand? Ludicrous is all that we have on our side right now. This could work. This could blow up in our faces. Rookwood could end up in a different timeline than the children leaving us with no hope but the notes we tie to their necks. The kids could die of their illness the moment they de-age or infect everyone they come into contact with. They could also heal as a Danish healer believes they will. Who knows? All we have is a sliver of hope that a future we won’t see will be better than this one.”

“Say we’re on board with this madness… where do they go? Which family lines are going to be saved?” Lucius asked, arms crossed perilously.

“We have it all planned out already, we’ve written the instructions and brewed the potions,” Arthur answered. “Now we just need the time-turners.”

“That doesn’t answer my question- which family lines?” Lucius persisted. 

“Lestrange, Peverell, Burke, Shafiq, Malfoy… everyone who needs a child is accounted for. The small blessing in this nightmare is that we have more females than males which will boost the small number of pureblood females our generation has.”

“Malfoy? Who?” Lucius asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Luna Lovegood,” Kingsley said uncomfortably.

“She is an acceptable option. Though I must ask, why Lestrange? They have two sons already.”

“Part of the plan here is to introduce daughters to lines that typically birth only sons.”

“It’ll also add fresh blood to the betrothal pool for those who perished during the first war,” Aberforth said. “Evan Rosier, Regulus Black, Gideon and Fabian Prewett, Benjy Fenwick, Dorcas Meadowes, Marlene McKinnon… the list goes on, but girls were in relatively short supply.”

“Rabastan and Rodolphus will be so pleased,” Lucius murmured with a small smile as he thought of his childhood friends who’d been turned into monsters by a madman. “They always wanted a little sister.” 

“I can’t help but feel this isn’t fully thought through,” Rookwood muttered. “How old will they all be aged to? Will they have their memories? What if their decided parents don’t want them?”

“They’ll all be under the age of four, depending on the family they’re being put into. Many of the Europeans are securing siblings for their past selves and allied families, knowing what they know now. The age potion the Italians have brewed removes their memories, they tested it out on a Bulgarian girl who seemed to be as happy as any other four year old I’ve met. No one will know besides Rookwood and the two Germans. Their means of appearing dies with you three.”

“What of the older children? They magically show up and you expect everyone to go along with it?” Nott asked.

“A distant cousin whose parents met a tragic demise… there are enough stories to cover up any questions,” Aberforth said. 

“What becomes of us? The few young children who’ve survived this?” Lucius asked.

“We stay here and hope that the future in another timeline is much brighter,” Kingsley said gravely.

“We sacrifice everything we know for what could be, never knowing if it actually is to occur. How Gryffindor,” Lucius said with a scoff.

“That’s right,” Arthur responded, voice trembling. “We sacrifice everything to save our children. Don’t pretend you wouldn’t choose Draco every time.”

“Don’t presume to know me, Weasley,” Lucius said with steel in his voice. “My wife is dead, my son is dead, the Malfoy line dies with me. I will do anything to save my family in any timeline, even partake in this bloody asinine plan. Tell me what to do.”

“Me as well,” Nott replied, eyes trained on the ground to hide the emotion in his eyes. “What do we have to lose?”

An owl patronus flapped into the room and a female voice sounded. “Neville Longbottom is dead, the 18 remaining patients are stable. Kingsley… we don’t have much time.”

The room remained silent for a moment at the news, images of the snake-slaying Gryffindor flashing through their minds.

“We were the last hold out in the hemisphere,” Kingsley said. “I’ll convene a meeting of the leaders. Rookwood, Aberforth will help you with the time-turners. Bring them to St. Mungos when you’ve retrieved them. We’ll send you back and then we’ll portkey the group to Spain.”

Lucius looked at the man. “Someone is going to die on that journey.”

“There’s no other option, Lucius. It’s a risk we have to take. We’re all meeting at the Spanish Ministry, it’s the most central location.”

“You’re actually quite right. What’s the harm in taking a chance when almost everyone’s dead anyways?” Lucius sniped as he followed the man out of the room before apparating to St. Mungo’s.

\---  
Draught of Peace relieves anxiety and agitation… It requires powdered moonstone, syrup of hellebore, powdered porcupine quills and powdered unicorn hair. Color? Merlin… is it purple? No, no... Something light, it’s not the Draught of Living Death, Hermione! 

The girl knew she was nearing the end of her time in the land of the living as her breathing grew more and more ragged. For days, her mind had been the only part of her body she’d had control over, and now she couldn’t remember the color of a potion she’d memorized in fourth year.

Hermione closed her eyes, content to try and drift off once more in hopes that she’d be able to sleep for once without waking up to gasp for air. Deep down, she knew that the end was coming. Almost everyone had been dead before she’d become symptomatic. The war and the virus had taken so many- no one would survive this. She wouldn’t survive this.

The feeling of a soft hand in her matted, sweat-soaked curls surprised her from her sleep, leaving her to nuzzle into the feeling. The healers who were left did not touch the patients out of fear of succumbing to the virus themselves before a cure could be discovered. She opened her eyes and knew her mental state had only gotten worse, progressing to the hallucinations that she’d seen rock Harry and Ron before they finally died their rotten deaths.

“Malfoy,” Hermione weakly choked out, eyes blurry as she stared at the bleach blond hair of the man sitting in between two beds.

“Shush now,” the man chided gently, his other hand gently rubbing the gaunt cheek of a sleeping Luna Lovegood.

Hermione quieted, less for his admonishment and more for her inability to speak without coming close to passing out.

“You’ll both be just fine,” Lucius promised himself quietly. “Daddy’s little girls... you both will be. Your brothers and I will have quite a time on our hands with you two at Hogwarts knowing what I know now. Maybe I’ll get to finally hex Potter and Black myself…”

“Ah,” Lucius said with a small smile over his shoulder. “I’m putting galleons on it now, dear girl. Not that it matters at the moment, but I know just the wizard who’s waiting for you. Now that I think about it, it’s almost like you were made for my generation.”

The Gryffindor let out a low moan as her body spasmed with chills, teeth clanging together as drool dripped down her face to join the trail of dried spittle and unidentified bodily fluids already there. Her hands were useless by her sides, too weak to do more than whimper at the pathetic being she’d become. Months before she’d been fighting the war to end all wars. In some sick twist of fate, nothing mattered. There were no trials for Death Eaters as everyone in Azkaban had died after two infected guards came to work. There were no commemoration ceremonies before everyone who was left to honor the fallen was dead themselves. There was nothing to celebrate now, and it seemed like there was nothing to fight for before. For the first time in her life, Hermione found herself thinking that it wasn’t fair.

“There, there,” Lucius said calmly as he cast an augamenti on his kerchief and wiped the girl’s face.

“Sick,” Hermione gasped out, bloodshot eyes focused concernedly on Lucius’ face.

“Don’t you worry about me, little lion. I’ve lived through worse.”

Lucius looked up from the girl’s face as he heard the sound of boots on the ground.

“The Germans have gone back. Rookwood has gone back. It’s time,” Kingsley said, taking a last look around the ward. The coughing, heaving 18 individuals lying around the room were their last hope.

“Everyone grab two people, roll their beds closer together so they can touch the portkey,” Kingsley instructed as he handed Lucius a giant-sized boot. Thankfully it was large enough that he could nestle both girls’ hands into the tightly laced shoestring, ensuring they were holding on tightly.

“Stay strong, little ones. We need you to make it,” Lucius murmured to the girl, not paying attention to those around him.

The portkey travel was fraught with tension as Lucius worried about the two girls traveling with him. Thankfully the ministry officials in Spain had thought it through, or experienced enough portkey landings, and had witches and wizards stationed around the entry hall to levitate the British trios down gently.

Once standing on his two feet, Lucius immediately kneeled down to the horizontal bodies of Hermione and Luna.

“Mr. Malfoy, hi,” Luna choked out, finally awake, her eyes as wide and as pleasant as ever.

“Hello, little dreamer,” Lucius replied with an uncharacteristically fond smile. “Are you both all right?”

The girls both nodded slightly, their eyes closing again only moments later. Lucius took that time to look around the entry hall and felt pleased to see that there was no fuss, no healers waving their wands frantically. Everyone had made it.

Lucius looked on with interest as a Spanish official came in, directing them loudly in decent English to levitate their charges to the main hearing room just down the hallway.

Lucius was not ashamed to join the other healthy adults in crooning softly to the pair he was levitating, keeping one eye on the girls and the other on the large set of doors they were rapidly approaching.

The room was similar to what Lucius had imagined the muggle idea of hell to look like. It was far too crowded. There were people from wall to wall, many laying down on a mishmash of blankets that covered the floor. It was far too loud. The room echoed as any esteemed magical chamber did, the sound of pained crying was not one that would soon leave Lucius’ mind.

“Welcome,” a lightly accented voice boomed through the room. “My name is Santiago Realeza and I’m the Spanish Minister of Magic. I’m joined by my colleagues from across the hemisphere and I wish I was inviting you to our country under better circumstances. Momentarily, we will divide our travelers into groups by age and destination. A minister and healer will confirm that everyone is sorted correctly before handing out potions. More directions will be given once potions have been administered.”

Lucius was grateful to hear that the girls were already where they needed to be - he did a quick calculation in his head when he heard they’d be sending the girls back as three-month-olds. Lucius and Rodolphus would be three years older than the girls. It was a genius though, Lucius had to admit. Traditionally pureblood women didn’t leave their manor until their children were at least eight months old, so Rabastan and Hermione being announced as twins wouldn’t be looked at twice. Hell, he and Rodolphus were barely speaking in full sentences, they wouldn’t be shocked at the addition of another baby in their homes.

“Everything looks tip-top over here,” a red-haired healer remarked in an unknown accent, a smile on her face as though she were attending a quidditch match and not an unprecedented experiment on a group of dying adolescents. Lucius knew the man to be the Hungarian minister, a dark-haired man with a taste for high-end liquor and young women.

The healer spoke quietly before digging into her bag and pulling out 20 lilac potions. Lucius knew from experience that the lighter purple an age potion, the younger the consumer would become.

“Here’s to a better future, my little ones,” Lucius said. “By Merlin, I hope that this time you can just live as the children you are.”

The man uncorked the first potion and slowly poured it into Luna’s mouth as his other supported her back and held her in his lap. The girl looked at him with the same dreamy look in her eyes, no confusion or distrust evident. 

Lucius moved quickly, wanting to finish with Hermione before Luna’s de-aging was finished. 

“No,” Hermione whispered, pitifully attempting to wrench herself from the man’s arms.

“Yes,” Lucius said fondly, looking at the girl as though she were already a tiny child. “Drink up, this is the only way. When you wake up, all will be well.”

Hermione looked up with betrayed eyes as the man pushed a finger into the hinge of her jaw, gently pushing the potion into her now-open mouth. 

Lucius began humming, vanishing the potion vials before lightly moving the girls to rest on both sides of his chest.

A hush fell over the room as the potions were finished, the soon-to-be-children falling into a sleep as their bodies and minds reconciled the changes occurring.

“There we are,” the Spanish minister said pleasantly, his voice still amplified with a sonorus charm. “The children will likely be asleep until they undergo their bloodrite. Now comes the tricky part. Please listen carefully or we could have toddlers going Merlin knows where… We’ll have two or three children to a time-turner. Four of us will be coming around to activate them, so please keep calm.”

Kingsley made his way over to the group of 18 British children, looking around with serious eyes.

“We’re up once Italy is finished, let’s organize into our traveling groups. Be sure to resize their clothes if you haven’t already.”

“How will they know what to do? They’re landing at the Spanish ministry, Kingsley.”

The man let out a nervous laugh, “All of the children will land at the Spanish ministry, but there will be instructions to portkey them to their respective ministries. It’ll be past midnight and Rookwood should be the Department of Mysteries official on overnight. He knows to obliviate anyone they come into contact with and passed the message along to someone at every ministry. Or so he said.”

“If Rookwood made it. If Rookwood remembered these intimate, detailed instructions. What a clusterfuck of a plan,” Nott said, and Lucius found himself nodding in agreement. Simple arithmancy made it clear that with over 100 time-turners, something could and would go wrong.

“There’s no going back now,” Andromeda Tonks said, drawing a glare from her brother-in-law.

“Quite right, Andy,” Kingsley said.

“The British are coming,” said a lightly accented voice. “Well, in this case… the British are going. Are your charges ready to take a trip?”

“Everyone’s ready,” Kingsley answered to cover the incredulous scoffs of those present.

Lucius took the moment to press a kiss on both little girls’ foreheads. 

“Here’s to a better life for you both. Make a better life for all of us and thaw some frozen hearts. We’re all counting on you,” he whispered.

With the clank of the time-turner, Hermione and Luna were gone.

Lucius stood up and dusted himself off, looking unaffected to everyone around him.

“What now?” Arthur Weasley asked, dazed.

“I for one think I’ll go on a trip. I’ve always wanted to visit Las Vegas. I could use a little luck,” Lucius said, strolling out of the room and into the atrium of the empty ministry. 

\----

“There’s more, Jose! They just keep coming!”

“They all have little bags on them, Marco! Read one.”

“Hello, if you are reading this message, please don’t be frightened. Please contact Santiago Realeza- he’s on overnight duty upstairs in the auror department. He’ll know what to do.”

“Santiago Realeza? I don’t know who that is.”

“I don’t bloody know, just go grab the guy before these kids wake up! There’s so many of them.”

“Ah, yes,” a young Santiago Realeza said as he walked in, honestly shocked that what the British man said was true. “Thank you gentleman for helping out today.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Jose asked frantically, eyes wide. “We didn’t sign up for this! We’re just night duty clerks.”

“Stupefy!” Realeza shouted before turning his wand towards the quiet man. “Imperio!”

The silent stranger immediately relaxed into the unforgivable.

“Wonderful, now… you’re going to read the notes attached to the children’s necks and activate portkeys to send them where instructed. Remember how many kids you portkey out of here.”

“Yes sir!” The night guard said with a nod. “I love kids.”

“Well that’s quite a relief because you’ll be dealing with them all night.”

“Goodbye little ones! Enjoy rainy Britain,” the man said as he sent the 15 children who were destined for the Ministry in London.

“That’s the last of them, sir,” the imperiused man said.

“How many?”

“143.”

“Fuck,” Realeza said under his breath as he added their totals together and realized they were eleven kids short from the numbers shared with him by the intense Brit. Oh well. There was nothing they could do now. He spared a quick thought for the eleven kids and hoped they ended up showing up one day.

For now, though… he had two idiots to obliviate.

\--  
“I don’t understand, Remy,” a beautiful brunette woman said breathlessly, her eyes trained on the tiny form in his arms.

“A tangible response to our desires, Hyria,” Remigius Lestrange responded to his wife, his eyes not leaving the infant in his arms. “I received a floo call from a Mystery’s official.. He said she showed up with a note around her neck a short time ago.”

The woman gasped, “What did the note say? Who would leave an innocent baby alone?”

“Part of the mystery, I suppose. The note said to bring her here and treat her as our own… her name is Hermione and she’s three months old.”

“Hermione Lestrange,” Hyria whispered. “It’s as though the fates knew my heart couldn’t handle the loss of our Helia.”

“You are so strong, my beloved,” the large man said with a sad smile. “The man brewed us a bloodrite potion. All it needs is our blood and hers.”

“Dark magic? This is the only way?” Hyria asked, worried.

“Yes, my darling. If we’re to keep her as our own, this is the only way.”

The woman’s face turned stormy, “Of course we’re going to keep her, who is careless enough to turn up their nose to the gracious hand of the fates?”

“Not us,” Remy responded.

“Not us,” Hyria murmured.

In the hushed silence of the room, the little girl finished the potion.

“Remy, let me hold her.”

“My precious little girl, my miracle,” Hyria whispered to the sleeping infant she now held close.

“Gildy,” Remington said, an elf popping into the room immediately. “Please run a bath in the infant tub immediately.”

The elf nodded, letting out a squeak as her eyes landed on the unfamiliar child.

“Gildy is not knowing this baby? She is so sorry for asking!”

Hyria replied, “It’s fine to ask, Gildy. This is Hermione… She is our daughter. You’re to tell the others to treat her as our own.”

The elf’s eyes bulged wide in the candlelight, “Oh, Gildy and the elves is so happy… We is loving little miss Hermione already!”

Remy decided to ignore the way the elf butchered his daughter’s name and nod kindly at the creature.

“The bath, Gildy.”

The elf let out another high-pitched sound before apparating out of the room.

“So much to do tomorrow… she needs a wardrobe, a bedroom- oh no, what about Roddy? What if he doesn’t understand? And Healer McKinnon,” the woman’s voice cracked. “She saw. She saw what happened.”

“Hyria, beloved,” Remy crooned. “There’s no need to make yourself sick, we’ll figure all of this out together. I promise. Let’s just focus on tonight.”

The man relaxed behind his wife until he heard her gasp.

“Who did this?” Hyria asked with a trembling voice, holding the baby closer in her arms.

Remy’s eyes bulged at the sight of the purple scar bisecting the girl’s diminutive chest, quickly taking stock of the rest of her now-naked body. He let out a choked noise at the prominent scar on her left arm.

Remy muttered curses to himself before pulling out his wand.

“What are you doing?” Hyria asked.

“Trying to heal her,” the man said through gritted teeth. “The wound is cursed.”

“How do you know?” Hyria questioned as she lay the girl down in the infant bath. Despite the way they’d clicked their first year, their relationship was not a smooth ride. Born Hyria Fawley, her parents were vocally opposed to their courtship at the start. Remy found his wife still in the dark on many aspects of pureblood families, her parents clearly preferring to keep the girl in the dark. 

“There’s a magic signature on the wound that isn’t Hermione’s,” Remy replied patiently. “I can owl Orion to see if he has any idea of what curse this is.”

“If you’re sure that’s the only way. She can’t have this on her arm, Remy… it’s ghastly.”

The both let the unspoken go unsaid… what would others think of their daughter having mudblood branded on her arm?

“Gildy, bring me one of Rabastan’s smaller sleep sacks and a nappy,” Hyria ordered as she gently scrubbed the little girl down by hand. Both adults were mesmerized by the small changes that were taking place as they watched, her features slowly becoming a mix of their family lines.

Once the girl was placed in the bassinet beside their bed, she immediately curled up to the warm figure of her brother.

Rabastan’s piercing cry woke the sleeping couple as it did every morning. Hyria quickly shook off the last vestiges of sleep and stood up, taking a few steps over to the bassinet where her two youngest had slept.

“Good morning, my angels,” the woman cooed happily, unable to wipe the smile off of her face. “Remy, come quickly!”

“What’s wrong?” the man asked, eyes scanning the two little ones in front of them.

“Look at them,” Hyria said in a rush. Hermione and Rabastan now looked almost exactly alike, both sporting a fuzzy swath of their father’s golden brown hair and their mother’s cerulean eyes. They could tell that Hermione was smaller, even in the crib.

Hermione let out a squeaky yawn, drawing soft noises from her parents.

“I think someone’s still sleepy,” Hyria mused with a giggle.

Rabastan was staring curiously at his crib mate, clearly unsure of what to make of the stranger lying next to him. Only a moment later he let out a pleased noise, laying a chubby arm across the girl’s stomach.

“He likes her,” Hyria exclaimed, tears forming in her eyes.

Remy thought the past twelve hours to be a good reminder of his wife’s innocence. He cherished the woman and wanted to shield her from anything that could harm her. Months earlier when their Helia came out lifeless before Rabastan, their world had stopped turning for a moment. But now, with another daughter… his wife could finally exact her dream of having three children. Remy would never be the one to diminish that joy, and if anyone else tried… there would be no corpse to discover.

“He loves her,” the man corrected gently. “We all do. Our precious miracle.”

“Bring Rabby over to me,” the woman said as she grabbed Hermione and moved to lay down once more on the bed. “Let’s see if she’ll latch.”

The little girl snuffled confusedly at first, but latched quickly. Following the advice she’d received from healers when she’d been expecting twins, she had Remy hold Rabastan up to her other breast.

“There we go, both my babies filling their tummies,” Hyria cooed, smiling contentedly at her husband. Both babies fell back asleep moments later, stomachs full and ready to rest.

Hyria fixed her dressing gown as her husband put them back inside the bassinet, calling an elf to watch over them.

“I don’t want to leave them,” Hyria said with a look of longing towards the sleeping duo.

“You were the one telling me how much we had to do today,” Remy teased with a tickle to his wife’s stomach.

“We do have a full schedule… and I’m sure Roddy is still asleep.”

“Gildy can help me wake the monster up, you go work up your to-do list. We have a full day ahead of us.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I hope you enjoy this. This fic won't be dark, won't be dramatic... it's going to be a lovely little work on wizarding culture and the life of different young witches and wizards. Hermione, Luna, Narcissa, Bellatrix, Andromeda, Sirius, Lily, Remus, Severus, Regulus, Rabastan, Rodolphus... the gang's all here.
> 
> Please review! Please let me know what you'd like to see, what edits I need to make. The gang is heading to Hogwarts next chapter! My tumblr is https://thiscitychickk.tumblr.com/ if you would like to chat fics!

April 21, 1963

“No!” Rabastan said, lips pursing up into a pout.

Hermione looked over at her brother before making the same expression, the only difference between the pair being the girl’s curly hair.

“Why do they always do the same stuff, mummy?” Rodolphus asked, looking over at his siblings.

“I wish I could tell you, Roddy,” the woman sighed, running a hand through her dark, wavy hair. She simultaneously praised and cursed the fact that her twins loved each other so much that they often in the same mood and acting the same way. “Pilly, please serve the first course.”

“Yes, Mistress!” the elf responded, apparating from the room immediately.

Rabastan started banging on his wooden high chair tray, extraordinarily pleased with the loud noise he was making. Letting out a giggle, Hermione started to do the same thing, slightly less loudly than her brother who was now vocally harmonizing with his movements.

The doors to the dining room opened with a woosh, the master of the manor walking in moments later. Hyria smiled brightly at her husband, always pleased to see the handsome, secretly loving man she’d married.

“Are we attending the orchestra tonight,” Remy asked with a slight smile, eyes on his twins.

Hermione immediately stopped when the man walked in, holding her chubby arms up in waiting. “Dada! Up!”

“I hear my princess, but I don’t see her… where is she?” Remy asked theatrically, playing the same game they did every time he returned home from a Wizengamot session.

“Dada! Dada!” the girl cheered, a bright smile on her face as she waited for her father to ‘see’ her.

“There she is! Who’s daddy’s little girl,” the man cooed, unstrapping Hermione and picking her up. Hermione pressed little kisses to his face before snuffling in the familiar scent of her father.

“She’s so odd,” Rodolphus mused as he watched his sister breathe in their father’s scent like she did every time he held her.

“Be nice, Roddy. If I recall, you’re the same boy who insisted on sitting in the loo while I bathed until they were nearly four,” Hyria quipped, amused. As expected, the almost six year old turned bright red and remained silent.

“Did you keep an eye on our troublesome twins this afternoon, Rodolphus?” Remy asked his eldest, affectionately patting both his boy’s head’s.

“I didn’t spend much time with them- I was reading, father. I read Babbity to mum and knew all the words.”

“Good work, son. I’m proud of you,” the man said, the words still odd in his mouth after growing up with a father who taught with fear, not praise. He’d promised himself to raise his children with the old ways, just vamped up with a bit more love and many more smiles. It wasn’t hard to do better than his father had, but he vowed to do just that.

June 21, 1964

“I don’t like it,” Hermione said with a quivering lower lip that had Remigius second-guessing their decision.

“Don’t cry, lovey,” Rodolphus said with all of the authority of an older brother, pulling his sister into a hug while Rabastan watched on with wide blue eyes.

“It’s scary alone,” Hermione mumbled into her big brother’s chest, relishing the way he reached through her curls to scratch her scalp.

“Want to know a secret?” the boy murmured into her hair receiving a nod immediately. “I have some nights when I don’t want to sleep alone, that’s when I come to sleep with you and Rabby.”

“We can still have sleepovers?” she asked in an equally quiet voice.

“Of course,” Rodolphus replied. “And now we have three beds, so we have even more pillows to make a fort!”

Hermione giggled, tears forgotten as the possibilities of a mega-fort filled her mind. “Daddy doesn’t like when we play fort.”

“Gildy can help us clean, father will never find out,” Rodolphus murmured, unaware his parents could hear everything they were saying in the echoey hallway.

“Tonight?” Hermione asked, pulling back to look up with pleading eyes.

“No, lovey. Soon, I promise,” Rodolphus answered, not wanting to go too far against his parents’ wishes.

“Okay,” Hermione replied, slightly dejected, but trusting her brother’s promise.

“It’s time to share our goodnight hugs,” Hyria said with a smile.

“I love you, bubby,” Hermione said, giving her big brother one final squeeze.

“Love you most, lovey,” Rodolphus replied, booping the girl on her little nose and eliciting a giggle.

“What about me, twin?” Rabastan asked with a pout, still leaning against his mum’s side.

Hermione shuffled over to him, kissing him on the cheek before squeezing him.

“You’re silly,” the girl giggled again, in lighter spirits than she’d been all day. “Love you lots, Rabby.”

“Yeah, we love you, Rabby,” Rodolphus said, pulling the twins into a hug.

“Not your Rabby,” Rabastan replied to his brother with a scowl.

“Bedrooms now or no cocoa,” Remy threatened after a moment, knowing his kids well enough to know they’d never go to bed unless they were threatened.

The moment that the trio were in their respective rooms, Sunny, Hermione’s personal elf, popped into the hallway.

“Master is still wanting sleepy cocoa for precious little miss?” the elf asked quietly, ears pulled tight against her head.

“Yes,” Remy answered. “She’s waiting in her room, dress her in a short sleeve nightgown. We’ll be in shortly.”

Rabastan was already in bed by the time Hyria and Remy walked in, blinking sleepily already.

“Zeppo, cocoa please,” Remy ordered, Rabastan’s nanny elf returning with his cocoa moments later.

“Thank you,” Rabastan said with a smile and a soft pat on his elf’s head.

“Goodnight master,” the happy elf said before popping out of the room.

Hyria hummed soothingly while Rabastan drank his cocoa, pushing it away before it was halfway done. They’d spent the day outside, even having lunch under the shade of a large oak tree.

After Hyria pressed a kiss to her youngest son’s forehead before walking out of the room with her husband. Remy pulled Hyria into a tight embrace.

“Breathe, Hyrie. She’ll wake up in the morning none the wiser,” Remy said quietly.

“That doesn’t change how I feel, Remy,” Hyria replied quietly. “Let’s get this over with.”

They walked into Hermione’s room, smiling softly at the girl who was talking to the house elf tucking into bed.

“Sunny said I can’t wear my purple gown,” Hermione said with an annoyed look at her elf.

“Sorry darling, it’s supposed to be a warm night so you’ll be more comfortable in this one,” Remy replied easily. It was moments like these that Hyria saw her husband’s Slytherin tendencies laid on the table.

“Okay,” Hermione responded, trusting his words to be true. Remy couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty at the girl’s acquiescence.

“Time for cocoa,” Hyria said as she pulled herself onto her daughter’s bed. Hermione clapped her tiny hands, both parents’ eyes going to the ever-present bandage covering her left forearm.

Thankfully the children didn’t know the cursed scar on Hermione’s arm to be more than just a wound that the girl needed to keep covered, but it made Hyria and Remy sick every time they looked at it when the girl bathed. 

As the twins reached an age where it was difficult to separate them from their peers anymore, and Rodolphus reached one where the insistence that he could visit his friends’ homes without them coming over was too much. They weren’t oblivious to think there wouldn’t be questions... There was a line, and they’d finally reached it.

“Tastes different, mummy,” Hermione said with one eye scrunched close in thought after a few sips. The adults shared a quick look. Their girl was too observant for her own good.

“Maybe Pilly used a new kind of chocolate,” Remy faux-mused aloud. “We can ask him at breakfast.”

“‘Kay, dada,” Hermione slurred, the heavy dose of dreamless sleep kicking in almost immediately.

“I love you, my miracle,” Hyria said, smoothing Hermione’s curl’s back from her face.

“Why don’t you say goodnight to Rodolphus while I floo Orion,” Remy suggested to his wife who nodded.

Shortly after putting the boys to bed, the pair along with Orion Black made their way to Hermione’s room.

“I was surprised to receive your owl,” Orion admitted with the raise of one perfectly plucked black eyebrow.

“First, thank you for coming, Orion. Hyria and I are grateful for your discretion and assistance. I won’t apologize for not sharing our family business. All that matters to us is that you understand it wasn’t us who hurt Hermione.”

“Can I see the wound?” Orion asked, already drawing his wand casually in one hand. The man sucked in a hiss through gritted teeth as the mangled, yet clear words on the girl’s diminutive forearm were revealed.

“Are you able to help?” Hyria asked, clearly worried.

“I’ll have to confirm that there’s another signature on the curse before attempting to extract said signature. This won’t hurt her… yet,” the man said calmly.

Remy pulled his wife over to a plush leather loveseat in the corner of the room.

Hyria stiffened as the man started to cuss quietly after a few minutes of running his wand over their daughter.

“You can keep your secrets Remigius, but I need to know… who has she met in my family?”

Hyria and Remy shared a look. 

“We don’t know,” Remy admitted.

“The signature on this scar… it’s from a weapon that has Black magic coursing through it. One of my relatives harmed her.”

Hyria let out a sob, tucking her head into her husband’s chest.

“Can you fix it?” Remy asked, voice deceptively calm.

“Yes. The curse is lingering under her skin which is why your attempts at healing have been fruitless. I’ll have to slice open the wound to siphon the curse out, but it won’t take long. She should heal without a scar. The girl will be quite ill the next few days as her body purges the last of the curse itself, but it’s a small price to pay. Shall we get started?” the man continued as though he were giving menial directions on necessary home repairs to a house elf.

“Can we sit next to her?” Hyria asked.

“Indeed,” Orion said, digging through his leather bag and pulling out a full size copper cauldron. “Remigius, if you’d hold this cauldron for me. Lady Lestrange, if you’d sit on the little lady’s right side. We wouldn’t want you too close to the curse itself.”

Hermione didn’t wake up through the process, thank Merlin. Despite their daughter’s deep sleep, Remy and Hyria knew they wouldn’t soon forget the way their daughter’s back arched unnaturally every time Orion ran his wand over her arm as though her tiny body was forcefully pushing out the dark magic.

“That’s the last of it,” Orion said with a pant, dropping his wand on the ground and gripping his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

“Elf,” Remigius snapped quietly, ordering whatever creature popped into the room to grab the Black wizard a glass of water.

“I’ll heal her arm in a moment and then she’ll be as good as new.”

Hyria thanked the man with a grateful smile as he left a while later, receiving a kiss on the knuckles and a promise to owl in a few days to check on the girl’s progress. The woman curled up closely to Hermione’s right side, uncaring that she was still in her day robes as she fell into an uneasy sleep.

After thanking Orion and murmuring threateningly once more about keeping the night’s activities to himself, Remy returned to Hermione’s room to see his wife and daughter fast asleep. The man, still in his robes, sat awake watching over his two beloved girls until they woke up the next morning. 

The boys were both understandably upset when their father informed them that Hermione was sick and holed up in bed for the day as they arrived to breakfast. He was grateful that they took his suggestion to draw for her to heart, which kept them occupied while Remy joined his wife upstairs.

The couple was unsure of how much time went by before Hermione finally opened her eyes, looking around frantically.

“Hello?” the girl croaked out, eyes darting around the room.

“Hi princess,” Remy said with a coo, carefully moving to the girl’s side from where he and Hyria were perched on the couch in waiting.

“Nonono, please,” Hermione moaned, legs caught in her plush blush-colored comforter as she tried to move away from the man, eyes wide.

“What’s wrong?” the father asked, halting the hand he’d begun to reach towards his daughter as she flinched violently.

“I told her I didn’t have it,” the girl cried weakly, curling up in fear. “No more… no more crucio please. My arm… it hurts. I hurt.”

Hyria let out a sob from the corner of the room, face pale white in terror.

“No one’s going to hurt you, princess. Dada’s here,” the man cooed as soothingly as possible without drawing closer.

“I don’t know, Rodol- Mr. Lestrange,” Hermione cried. “I told Bel- her I don’t know.”

The tiny girl continued to sob and moan, shaking like a leaf as she swore off her knowledge of an unknown object to an unknown member of the Lestrange line. The moment she passed out didn’t come soon enough, leaving both parents exhausted and terrified by what they’d witnessed.

“Orion mentioned hallucinations when he was leaving, but that was… unbearable.”

“How does our baby know what crucio means?” Hyria asked. “I hadn’t heard of the unforgivables until our sixth year, Remy… she’s four.”

“I wish I knew, darling.”

Remy and Hyria tensed up hours later when Hermione moved to wake up once more. The girl’s eyes were bright with recognition when she spotted her parents.

“Dada, mummy,” she said croakily, a weak smile on her face. The pattern continued for a week, causing an emotional terrorism the couple hoped to never feel again. The little girl shifted from the terrified Hermione that left the adults mystified and needing to know more to their sweet, sick girl who just wanted cuddles and kisses. Remy and Hyria were unspeakably relieved when the girl was finally well enough to leave her room for a walk and asked to see their brothers. Rodolphus and Rabastan were eager to see their sister again, but knew well enough to heed their father’s warning to treat her gently and not overwhelm her.

Rabastan’s face went pale at his sister’s sick pallor, but kept his thoughts to himself for once. The girl was settled onto her father’s lap in a lawn chair before the man ushered the boy’s closer.

“Mine! Mine! Hi!” Rabastan exclaimed with a wave, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Hi Rabby,” his sister said with a tired smile. “I have your drawings in my room. Daddy stuck the one of us on a pegasus above my bed.”

The boy smiled before letting out a small laugh. “You’re in your night clothes still, silly.”

“Mummy said I didn’t have to change because we won’t be out long,” Hermione said with a smile, leaning heavily against her dad’s muscular chest before a yawn escaped.

“Your sister’s still knackered, boys, but she’ll be better soon,” Hyria promised, not quite believing her own words.

May 3, 1965

“Rabastan Hercules Lestrange, you’re making a very good case for being left behind at the moment,” Hyria said icily, eyes trained on her son.

“Sorry mother, I’m sorry!” the boy replied meekly, not wanting to be left at home.

“What’s the ruckus?” Remigius asked as he walked in, Hermione perched on his hip.

“Nothing, dear,” Hyria said lightly, throwing her son a bone. “Just waiting on you two.”

Remy rolled his eyes, not believing the woman for a second. “Understood, darling. Looks like princess and I have you lot beat, we’re dressed and ready to go.”

“That’s not fair, father,” Rabastan said with a sigh, always ready for a fight. “You helped her get ready, I tied my shoes myself.”

“My shoes don’t have ties,” Hermione said with a giggle, swinging her feet on either side of her father’s hip. The girl was dressed in a long-sleeved rose colored dress with a cream petticoat, her feet covered in matching red Mary Janes. Remy was adept at managing his wife’s curly hair and loved taking time to style his daughter’s as well. 

“Everyone ready?” Remy asked, receiving excited nods from the three kids.

“I can show you where the best candy is,” Rodolphus said, not so subtly letting his siblings know once again that he’d visited Diagon Alley multiple times.

“What about quidditch? Father said I could get a broom!” Rabastan replied.

“Of course, Rab, just stick with me.” Rodolphus replied, the boy relishing in being the oldest and most knowledgeable. 

“Ready, princess?” Remy asked his daughter as they stepped into the floo first. At the nod of her head, he called out the Leaky Cauldron, a disgusting but necessary stop on their trip.

“It’s dark here,” Hermione said quietly as they stepped into the busy pub.

“You’ll see the sun in the alley, don’t worry lovey,” Remy replied consolingly, an eye towards the floo as the rest of his family stepped out. The man returned polite nods from a few patrons, keeping a protective eye on his wife and sons. 

“Wow, it’s just like you said, Rod,” Rabastan exclaimed to his brother. After much back and forth, it was decided the youngest boy wouldn’t have to hold his parents’ hands if he stayed near them at all times. Knowing their son, it was only a matter of time before he tried to skive off. Remy wasn’t worried by this. He firmly believed that part of growing into a man was failing and spending quality time over his father’s lap. 

“What’s on their legs, daddy?” Hermione asked in a whisper.

Remy held back his laughter as he looked over to the pair of women his daughter was staring at.

“They’re called jeans, princess. Some women like to wear them instead of dresses.”

Hermione wrinkled her nose, “Mummy only wears dresses. I’m like her.”

The man looked forward to relaying the conversation with his wife once they were back at the manor and couldn’t wait to use the memory against his daughter if she was tempted by the stroke of rebellion that washed over many teenagers.

“Good thing you have a closet full of dresses like mummy, then,” Remy replied, drawing a serious nod from his spoiled girl.

The family walked towards Flourish and Blotts, their first stop for the day.

Hermione was mesmerized by the number of new books once inside the store. The girl could usually be found in the sizable Lestrange library now that she was reading regularly on her own. Her parents were relieved to see their only daughter develop an interest that didn’t coincide with her twins’, both slightly worried at the pair’s codependence.

“Still interested in finding a book about sea creatures?” Remy asked the girl as his wife followed their two boys… wherever they were headed.

“Yes! I need to know what’s in the lake now that Rabby and I are learning to swim,” Hermione answered.

Rather than let the girl’s hopes of finding sea monsters and mermaids in their family lake up, Remy nodded and walked her over to the large children’s book section.

“Lord Lestrange,” a familiar voice said, and Remy smiled genuinely at one of his few close friends.

“Lord Malfoy, how are you today,” the men shook hands. “Picking up some books?”

“We are,” the blond man replied, smiling at the small blonde girl on his hip. “This is my Luna- say hello to Lord Lestrange.”

The blonde girl was looking curiously at Hermione. “Hello. What’s your name?” the girl asked, ignoring her father’s order.

“I’m Hermione,” the brunette answered. “Daddy is letting me get a book about sea creatures. We have a big lake and I think there might be plimpys in there.”

Luna nodded seriously, both girls missing their fathers’ amused looks over their heads.

“Can I help her find the book on lake creatures I have, daddy?” Luna asked, looking up at the man holding her with wide grey eyes.

“If it’s all right with Lord Lestrange,” Abraxas Malfoy said, receiving a nod.

“Stay where we can see you,” Remy said to Hermione. His heart grew the tiniest bit as he watched his daughter make her first friend, talking a mile a minute with the youngest Malfoy.

“I think Luna just made her first friend,” Abraxas said quietly, looking slightly more serene than he normally let show.

“I was just thinking the same thing, Brax,” Remy replied. “Perhaps Livana and Hyria could take tea and bring the girls together.”

“I’m sure Livana would love that, she’s been working day and night to plan the end of summer party. You’ll see when the invitations come out, but she plans to extend invitations to the children this year.”

“I’m sure you’re thrilled about that,” the Lestrange said drily.

“Of course, who wouldn’t want 40 children screaming and knocking over the decor my wife spent months working to perfect?

“Remy, you’ll nev- well, I guess you will believe who we found,” Hyria said with a smile, standing next to her closest childhood friend, Livana Greengrass Malfoy. 

“Good afternoon, Lord Malfoy,” Rodolphus said with a respectful nod towards his friend’s father.

“Hello, Rodolphus. Enjoying your day in the alley?” the man asked with a smile.

“Yes sir. Lucius and I were just saying we’d like to go look at some new quidditch gloves,” the boy said, chest puffed up at being spoken to like an adult.

“Is that right?” Abraxas replied with a raised eyebrow. “Let’s see if we can get our young ladies to choose the book they’d like to purchase and we can head over there.”

Remy called for the girls, both of them returning with a stack of five books a piece wobbling in their arms and innocent smiles on their faces.

“What did we discuss, Hermione?” Remy asked gently as he bent down to take the books from his daughter’s arms.

The girl twisted a curl around her finger, “Um, you said one book daddy. But I can’t choose! I need them all.”

“Hermione’s right, daddy. We’re both getting different books and will trade them, isn’t that smart?” Luna said with a calm smile, knowing full well her father would say yes. 

Lucius, Rodolphus and Rabastan rolled their eyes at each other. Girls. 

“Smart thinking, my moon,” Abraxas answered, amused that his girl thought acting frugally was something the richest wizarding family in Britain needed to do. “Let’s make our purchases and head out.” 

The smugs smiles the girls gave each other didn’t go unnoticed.

“Finally, quidditch time!” Rabastan exclaimed as they headed back into the main drag of Diagon Alley.

“Boring,” Hermione responded in a sing-song voice, getting a playful nudge in the shoulder from her twin.

“You’re the boring one, mine,” Rabastan replied with a smile, invoking an argument that started from the first time they’d hopped onto Rodolphus’ broom. 

“I think there’s a special someone waiting for you at the menagerie, Hermione,” Luna said conversationally. 

“Who?” Hermione asked. 

“I’m not sure… we’ll have to go in and find out,” Luna said with a smile. “I love adventures!” 

“My sister just knows things,” Lucius said to the group authoritatively. “If she says someone’s waiting, it’s true.”

“Wow,” Rabastan replied with wide eyes, really looking at the girl for the first time.

“Father, mother, Luna says we must go to the menagerie,” Lucius told his parents.

The Malfoy adults shared a quick look.

“Why don’t the ladies head there while we visit Quality Quidditch Supplies?” Abraxas suggested.

“Will you be fine alone?” Remy asked his wife, slightly uncomfortable at leaving the women alone.

“We’ll meet you at Fortescue’s in a little,” Hyria replied with a wink towards her husband.

Hermione took her new friend’s hand, excited and a bit nervous to see if her friend was right.

The menagerie had a pungent smell that Hermione had never experienced, and she wrinkled her nose as she walked in.

“Do you have any animals?” Hermione asked her new friend.

“We have albino peacocks and horses,” Luna said. “I asked my daddy for a unicorn, I hope he finds one for me.”

“Wow,” Hermione replied, a foreign feeling of jealousy in her tummy. They had no animals at the Lestrange manor, but hopefully today would change that.

“Back a little more,” Luna directed as she led the group towards the corner of the store.

“Welcome, may I help you with anything?” a man asked with a smile.

“Where is the orange cat?” Luna asked the man, his eyes bulging in surprise at the pointed question before he answered.

“Ah, you’ve met our resident grumpy kneazle?” the man questioned with a laugh.

“Grumpy kneazle?” Hyria asked curiously.

“Yes ma’am, there was a litter of half kneazles over in Knockturn Alley, must’ve been left by someone. I heard ‘em meowing from all the way over here as I was locking up. Brought all nine of the buggers in, they’re all gone besides one. He’s not very nice, uses his chompers on everyone who tries to pick him up.”

“I don’t think so,” Luna said, eyes glittering knowingly.

The man shrugged, “Be careful, little lady. He’s right in the blue pen.”

Hermione let out a soft noise, feeling her heart melt at the sight of the first kitten she’d seen outside of a book.

Hyria and Livana started to protest as the girl moved to put her cupped hands in the pen, but were silenced by the way the burnt orange fluff ball immediately jumped into the makeshift cradle.

“Hi,” Hermione cooed, rubbing her face against the cat’s smushed nose. To the adults, it looked like the cat had run into a wall at high speed, his nose pushed up high near his eyes which were noticeably lopsided. To Hermione… he was perfect. 

The kitten let out a purr, licking her inner wrist once before curling up with his back end resting against her forearms.

“Fast friends, just like you and I,” Luna said with a serene smile, reaching out to stroke the kitten without any pushback.

“I love him,” Hermione said. “Can he come home, please, mummy?”

Despite wanting to say yes immediately, Hyria knew she’d have to consult with her husband.

“We have to ask daddy,” Hyria said quietly. “If Lady Malfoy doesn’t mind, I can check in on the boys and bring them here.”

“Of course,” Livana said with an indulgent smile, looking down fondly at the two girls who were stroking their new friend.

Instead of just Remigius, the whole crew came into the store, Rabastan leading the way with an excited grin on his face.

“Let me see!” the boy asked loudly.

Both girls shushed the boy, not wanting to irritate the sleepy kitten.

“Who’s this, Hermione?” Remy asked cautiously as he knelt down to his daughter’s height. He did not come into the day thinking they’d leave their shopping trip with a living creature. Yet, after looking at his daughter’s face… he knew that’d be the case.

“His name is Aslan, like the book we read,” Hermione whispered into her dad’s ear. She remembered that the man told her the book was a secret between them, even if she didn’t know why.

“Ah, so you’ve already named him,” Remy asked, amused.

“I did, daddy. The man said he doesn’t like anyone, but he likes me. See?” Hermione demonstrated by holding the cat up to her face and rubbing her cheek up and down his back.

“Having a cat is a lot of work, princess. Are you going to help take care of him?” Remy questioned, already thinking through which elf he’d assign to watch over the little beast.

“Of course, daddy,” Hermione said with the smile of a pampered little girl who didn’t know the difference between responsibility and her left shoe.

“Let me see, let me see,” Rabastan repeated, his patience dwindling.

“Do you like him?” Hermione asked her brothers with a hopeful look as she held the cat out to him.

“He looks gross,” Rabastan answered honestly with a curl to his lip, dropping the cat onto the ground.

Hermione’s eyes turned stony and filled with angry tears. “You.. you hurt him! Don’t say that to him!”

“I think we’ll take our leave,” Abraxas said, realizing that this was rapidly turning into a family affair. “I’ll owl about getting together soon.”

“Yes. Good to see you, Abraxas,” Remy replied, standing up to shake his friend’s hand and leaving his kids to bicker.

“Goodbye, Hermione! I’ll see you soon,” Luna said, giving her friend a hug and distracting her from her anger for a moment.

“I will see you soon, Luna,” Hermione said with a watery smile before turning back to her brothers.

“He’s just gross,” Rabastan repeated with a shake of his head.

“He’s not,” Hermione said with the shake of her head.

“You’re dumb, Hermione,” Rabastan muttered, causing Hermione to burst into tears.

“That is enough,” Remigius quietly ordered, authority in every syllable. “You will be quiet while we finish up here.”

“Remigius, I’ve just paid. We’re all set to go, I let the shopkeeper know an elf will be by to procure the necessary supplies,” Hyria said, a beacon of calm. Remy was reminded of how much he loved his wife in that moment, the anger clouding his mind lessening ever so slightly.

“Thank you,” Remigius said, bending down to carefully pick Hermione and Aslan up.

The trip home was quiet, both boys having enough sense to keep their mouths shut while their dad was this angry. Rodolphus, slightly older and slightly wiser, had realized that his sister and mother’s tears were the one thing that could drive their dad batty.

“Rabastan, wait for me in my study,” Remy directed as soon as they’d stepped into the foyer from the floo. “Nose in the corner, do not move.”

The boy knew better than to argue with fate and trudged down the hallway to wait for his father.

“Princess, why don’t you and mummy show Aslan your room?” Remy suggested as he put the sniffling girl on the ground.

“I’ll come too,” Rodolphus offered, grabbing his little sister’s hand. “I think he’ll like your closet, lots of places for him to hide in there. Maybe we can give him a bath!”

Hermione giggled at the image in her mind as Rodolphus gently tugged her up the stairs, giving their parents a chance to talk.

“He’s a good boy,” Hyria said with a fond look towards the pair.

“He is. They both usually are,” Remy said with a sigh, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist. “I don’t know what got into him. Talking to Hermione so crudely? Making a scene in public?”

“He’s just a little boy, Remy. Talk him through it and then let it go. He’ll be beating himself up enough for the way he treated his sister,” Hyria said.

“As he should be,” Remy said, drawing a scoff and playful hit on the arm from his wife. “I’ll go handle this, don’t forget to send an elf to the menagerie. Salazar knows we don’t need that cat using our house as a litter box.”

“Be gentle with him, love.” 

Remy pressed a kiss to his wife’s forehead in lieu of an answer. They had instituted a don’t ask don’t tell policy when it came to punishments in his study, the only telltale sign of what went on the hesitant way their boys sat down afterwards.

Rabastan stopped his fidgeting the moment he heard the door click open, shoulders stiffening as he awaited what was to come.

The Lestrange patriarch cut to the chase quickly, not the type of man to savor the punishment of one of his sons.

“Sit down, Rabastan,” he ordered, working hard to keep his voice gentle despite the irritation still racing through his veins.

“I’m sorry, father,” the boy offered as he slumped down in the chair across from his dad’s desk.

“Shoulders back and head up, son. What are you apologizing for?”

“Because I made Hermione cry and made a scene,” a repentant Rabastan answered.

“I don’t need to remind you that the way you act reflects on our family. I know you’ll do well to remember that next time we go out.”

“Yes sir,” Rabastan answered, eyes brightening in surprise as though he thought he was getting out of this unscathed.

“But the way you treated your sister was out of line and uncalled for.”

“I only called her dumb,” the boy muttered, defensiveness his first response.

Remy swallowed an irritated sigh and decided his tactic. “Rabastan, can we talk man to man?”

“Yes, father,” he answered, wanting more than anything to be taken seriously like his older brother was.

“You see… one of the most important parts about being a good man, a good brother, a good father, a good friend… it’s knowing how to treat the ladies in our lives. Wizards and witches aren’t the same. Can you share some of the differences you’ve noticed?”

“Hm… like how mine doesn’t get spanked when she’s bad but we do? Or-or… how mummy and mine cried the first day Rod went to work with you but I didn’t?” the five year old answered.

“Those are two good examples. Women are to be cherished because they are special. They get hurt more easily than we do, so we need to watch what we say to them. My father taught me this, and I took it very seriously. It’s how your mother and I ended up getting along so well. I need you to keep this a secret between us men, Rabastan. And remember… if you ever make your sister cry again...there are going to be serious consequences. Do you understand?” Remy was a little surprised at his semi-incoherent rant, but knew it would get through to his son.

“Yes sir. I said I’m sorry,” Rabastan replied, switching to evasion mode.

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to. Let’s get this over with and then we can go see your sister,” Remy said seriously before getting down business. The sooner Rabastan’s punishment was over, the sooner they could get back to normal. The man found no glory or satisfaction in punishing his sons, but knew it was the only way to get a message through their stubborn minds.

A short while later, a shame-faced Rabastan found himself following his father and his twin’s giggles up the stairs. He made eye contact with his mother as he walked into the light pink room, the anxious pit in his stomach lessening immediately at the woman’s warm smile. His father was right… girls and boys were different. Hermione and mummy were the only girls he knew really well, but they always made him feel so happy. And after meeting Luna today and feeling that similar warm tickle in his stomach… he bet all women had that special magic.

With three sets of eyes on the twins, Rabastan made his way over to the girl.

“Mine… I’m sorry for hurting you,” Rabastan said quietly, hopping on his sister’s bed and wrapping her in a tight hug. The ugly orange cat was watching the pair of them through sleepy eyes. “I love you. I’m really really sorry. Don’t be mad!”

“I love you Rabby,” Hermione said with a sniffle as she tucked her face into her brother’s neck.

“I love you the most,” Rabastan replied. “Can I see your cat?”

Hermione pulled back to look at her brother with squinted eyes. “Are you going to be mean to him?”

“No, promise.”

“Daddy, want to come see him too?” Hermione asked, looking up at the man with her wide blue eyes.

“Of course, princess,” Remy said with the soft smile reserved for his favorite girls. All was right in their little world again.

August 21, 1965

“Why haven’t we gone before?” Rabastan asked.

“This is the first time they’re inviting children,” Rodolphus replied to his brother as he fiddled with the younger boy’s sleeves.

“Neat! Hopefully the food is good,” Rabastan replied to his brother.

“It is,” Hermione said as her father carried her into the room on his hip, a small smile on her face at knowing more than her brother. “Mummy and I helped pick it out.”

Rabastan let out a moan, “Why do you always make us match?”

Hermione let out a hurt noise, having just told her father that she hoped they matched. Hermione was dressed in a sky blue cap-sleeved summer dress with shiny white shoes that were charmed to be stain resistant. Rabastan and Rodolphus wore shirts of the same color, the blue accentuating their eyes.

“Because your mother said so, son. The sooner you get that concept through your head, the better. Your mother’s already waiting in for us by the floo, let’s head out.”

“My babies, you look wonderful,” Hyria said with a smile as she took in her three children, wearing a hunter green dress herself that looked resplendent against her loose dark curls.  
“Thank you, mother,” Rodolphus said with a smile at the beautiful woman. 

“See, Rabastan? I’m matching your mother. Now, quit your complaining,” Remy barked playfully once he saw his gorgeous wife.

Once they’d arrived at Malfoy Manor, an elf ushered them through the back foyer to the lush, sprawling backyard. The quintet stood in the greeting line, Rabastan and Rodolphus craning their necks curiously towards the growing group of children near a swath of trees.

Remigius shook his friend’s hand, Abraxas bowing and pressing a kiss on both Hyria and Hermione’s hand afterwards with young Lucius parroting his father’s movements. Luna gave her friend a happy wave once the Lestrange boys finished their greetings, Hermione returning the movement with a happy wiggle in her father’s arms.

“Hello Luna,” Rabastan said shyly.

“Hi Rabastan,” the girl replied with a curious look. “I hope you’ve been nice to Aslan.”

“I have, promise,” Rabastan replied. “Tell her, mine!”

“Lady Malfoy, you’ve outdone yourself,” Remigius praised in his deep voice, a small smile gracing his face.

“Oh, it’s all thanks to Hyria! Everything has come together so well,” Livana said, pulling her friend in for a hug that no one else had received up until that point. “I couldn’t have pulled this off alone.”

“Please enjoy yourselves, and we’ll be around shortly. Lucius, please show your sister and the Lestranges over to the other children.”

“Yes sir,” Lucius said, offering his arm to his sister. “If you’d follow me.”

Remy pressed a kiss to Hermione’s temple before placing her on the ground, and gave his heir an approving nod as he looped arms with her sister and guided her to the other children.

The Lestranges took their leave and headed over to a bar being manned by elves.

“She’ll be fine,” Remy said soothingly as he caught his wife looking over to where Hermione was being introduced to a large number of children.

“I know, I just remember my first social gathering… it’s hard being a little girl in our world, Remy,” Hyria whispered.

“Unlike us, she has brothers to help her navigate these relationships. I’ve taught the boys well, they’ll protect their sister,” Remy responded confidently.

“Lucius, we was hoping you could get an elf to bring us more of them beef sticks,” a scrawny boy with shaggy, dirty blond hair asked in a strong accent, pushing through the crowd. A girl who looked like him nodded along, a hopeful smile on her face.

“Hello Amycus, Alecto,” an eight-year-old Lucius replied, calling them by their first names without formality. “I’m sure more kebabs will be brought around shortly, I’ll let mother know you enjoyed them.”

The pair waited a moment as though hoping to be introduced to the newcomers, but Lucius made a point of standing there with an expectant look until they went away.

“Rodolphus, Rabastan, you already know Antonin Dolohov, Evan Rosier, Corban Yaxley, Dean Shafiq and Thoros Nott. Boys, you have met my sister, Miss Luna Malfoy. I’d like to introduce you to Miss Hermione Lestrange,” Lucius said with the flourish of his hand.

Having taken lessons with her mother daily for almost two years now, Hermione performed the expected curtsy before smiling softly at the large group of boys in front of her.

“Wonderful to meet you, Miss Lestrange and always lovely to see you, Miss Malfoy,” a boy with a slight and unknown accent said, his light brown eyes warm and curious. “My name is Antonin Dolohov.”

“Thank you all for coming,” Luna said with a smile. “Hermione and I will be going now, we will see you soon.”

The blonde gently grabbed her friend’s arm and the pair giggled as they skipped off.

“Where are we going?” Hermione asked breathlessly.

“You’ll see,” Luna said with a toothless smile. “We won’t be gone long.”

They made their way through a thicket of trees to a large structure made out of grey bricks and a white wooden door.

“They’re waiting in here for us,” Luna said, pulling Hermione along. 

“Wow,” Hermione sighed. “They’re so pretty.”

The Malfoy stable had spacious stalls with beautiful horses ambling about, two elves currently brushing a pair of large, black creatures.

“They’re all yours?” Hermione asked.

“They’re not all horses,” Luna replied. “Some of them are, but we also have a few Abraxans here. My favorite is Heaven, she’s a pegasus who visits us sometimes. I think she’s quite fond of the dabberblimps near the lake.

“What’s a dabberblimp?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, it’s quite small, much like a slug except for it can camouflage itself in any surroundings. Daddy said there are cases of dabberblimps expelling mud from their antennae when threatened. They’re neat creatures!”

“Wow, I’ve never even read about a dabberblimp. I’d love to see one.”

“You’ll have to spend the night two days after a rainless full moon, that’s when they come out.”

Hermione nodded, following her friend around as she was introduced to the Malfoy horses.

“This is Hephaestus, he’ll like you,” Luna said with a knowing smile. “He’s an abraxan my daddy found all alone in the forest while he was at Hogwarts. My grampy Achilles took him home to our house and he’s lived here since.”

“Hi Hephaestus, I’m Hermione,” the girl said, stroking his coal black coat and rubbing gentle fingers along his wings. The intelligent creature let out a whinny, nuzzling his wet black nose into Hermione’s wrist.

“Look how much he likes you.”

“I like him too,” Hermione replied, enthralled with the winged-horse.

“We can take him out soon, daddy or grampy have to be here though.”

“What’s a grampy?” Hermione asked.

“My grandfather, he lives in France. You’ll meet him soon,” Luna said.

“I don’t have any grandparents,” Hermione replied, looking down.

“Grampy’s really nice, I’m sure he’d be your grampy too if you’d like,” Luna said with a bright look.

“Okay,” Hermione said with a shy smile. “I’d like that.”

“Let’s say goodbye and then get back,” Luna replied, walking towards the front of the barn and petting every creature she passed.

There were even more children present when Hermione and Luna got back, causing the Lestrange’s stomach to roil nervously.

“Mine, where did you go? I looked all over for you two,” Rabastan asked breathlessly.

“Luna and I went on a walk, twin,” Hermione replied with a comforting smile.

“They were sick of this boring party,” a boy with black hair said, inserting himself into the conversation.

“Who are you?” Rabastan asked with squinted eyes.

“I’m Sirius, Sirius Black. You’re Luna Malfoy, and your family is throwing this boring party,” the boy said with a smirk. “And you are?”

“I’m Rabastan Lestrange, this is my sister Hermione,” the boy replied with narrowed blue eyes. 

“Pleasure,” the boy replied as though it was anything but before walking away without another word.

“Please ignore our cousin, little ones,” a girl who looked to be Rodolphus’ age said, walking up with two other girls. “He’s quite surly.”

“No worries,” Luna said with a bright smile. “Poor boy has nargles all around his head.”

“Right,” the girl said slowly. “I’m Bellatrix Black. These are my sisters, Andromeda and Narcissa.”

“Nice to meet you, Ladies Black,” Rabastan said with a small bow, drawing giggles out of all of the girls present.

“How old are you lot?” Bellatrix asked. “I’m eight and three months.”

“We’re five, our brother Rodolphus is eight,” Rabastan said. “I don’t know how many months.”

“I’m five too,” the sole blonde sister said softly, smiling softly between her black-haired sisters.

“Neat,” Luna replied, eyes bright. “Maybe you’d like to be our friend.”

“Rabastan, could you be a lad and introduce me and Dromeda to your brother,” the eldest girl interjected with a glint in her eye as she looked toward the large group of older boys.

“Yes ma’am,” the boy said, rolling his shoulders back before offering his arms to the older and slightly taller girls.

“Bye, Cissy,” the girl who hadn’t spoken yet, Andromeda, said with a small smile.

“About what you asked… I’d love to be your friend. I don’t know people here besides my sisters and cousins,” Narcissa said, sounding a little more certain now that the group was smaller.

“We don’t either,” Luna said as she grabbed her two friends’ hands and pulled them to an unoccupied table. “Mummy said little girls have to wait a bit longer than little boys to make friends.”

“Mine too,” Hermione and Narcissa replied at the same time, drawing giggles from the trio.

Remigius was surprised to find himself enjoying time with old friends and, even more, that he was genuine when he told a group of his old schoolmates that he’d owl soon about a get together. Fairy lights came on as the sun began to set, and the man was pleased to see his wife making exit eyes at him. Enough socializing was enough.

He nodded as he walked through groups of men and women, stopping once he’d reached his sons.

“Lord Lestrange, have you enjoyed the party?” Lucius asked politely, cutting through the group’s conversation.

“Yes, Lucius. Your mother has outdone herself this year,” Remigius replied politely, always amused by the politeness of his friends’ sons.

“I’ll be sure to tell her, sir.”

Remy nodded, “Boys, we’ll be taking our leave. Where is your sister?”

“Behind that oak tree, father,” Rodolphus said, nodding and shaking hands with his friends as he and Rabastan got up.

“Give your thanks to Lord and Lady Malfoy, we’ll be up in a moment.”

The man wasn’t sure what to expect, but well-dressed little girls rolling on the ground in boisterous laughter was not it.

“And daddy said, you look like wet seaweed!” Luna got out through her peals of giggles, causing a renewed level of laughter. “He even took a photo!”

“I want to see,” a dainty looking blonde said through laughter, a bright smile on her features.

“Good evening ladies,” Remigius said formally in his deep baritone. The man fought a smile when Hermione jumped up from the ground immediately and ran immediately for him to pick her up.

“Hello again, Lord Lestrange,” Luna said, rolling to sit up and dust her daisy yellow frock off.

“Daddy, this is Narcissa, she’s five too,” Hermione said in introduction with a relaxed smile.

“Ah, you must be Cygnus’ youngest. It’s nice to meet you, Miss Black,” Remigius said with the tip of his head, receiving a soft grin in return.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” the girl said, her seamless manners immediately earning approval in the man’s mind.

“Daddy, may we have a sleepover like Roddy and Lucius? Please? We’re all five now, so we’re big enough,” Hermione said with wide, innocent eyes.

“I see,” the man replied, unable to stop himself from pressing a fond kiss to his precious girl’s temple. “I’ll talk to Lords Malfoy and Black and we’ll see about setting something up, ladies.”

“Thank you daddy!” Hermione said excitedly.

“Of course, princess. Now, let’s escort you young ladies back to the party. It’s getting dark out and we’re about to take our leave.”

Hermione wriggled in the man’s arms in hopes of getting down, linking arms with the two girls once back on the ground.

Abraxas and Cygnus stood together scouting the thinning crowd when the quartet walked back into the fray, clearly looking for their own little girls.

“I believe I may have what you’re looking for, gentleman,” Remy said in a teasing voice as he walked up alongside the three whispering girls.

“You’d be right,” Cygnus, a man with the coal-colored hair and aristocratic features his family had dorned for generations said with a singular raised eyebrow. “Did I tell you to stay with your sisters?”

The slip of a girl looked at the ground, unlooping her arms from her friends’, “I apologize for my misbehavior, father.”

“I’m sorry, Lord Black,” Luna said immediately. “I wanted to show Narcissa my mummy’s daffodils, just like her name.”

Abraxas and Remy shared a quick look, working hard not to roll their eyes at Cygnus’ public chastisement of his youngest girl. The man had always been uptight, even during their Hogwarts years.

“Kindly put, Narcissa knows better,” Cygnus said with thinly veiled annoyance. “We’ll be taking our leave now, Abraxas. We are grateful for your hospitality.”

“Thank you, Lord Malfoy,” Narcissa said meekly, her face red in embarrassment.

“You’re quite welcome, Cygnus. Narcissa, you’re welcome at our manor any time,” Abraxas replied kindly, a verbal middle finger to the man.

“We’ll be taking our leave as well, Brax,” Remy said once the man left, finally rolling his eyes.

“It’s about time he gets over himself,” Abraxas muttered as he shook hands with his friend.

“Hear hear.” Even when they were in school, Cygnus Black was jaded and had clearly never gotten over his anger for not being the family’s patriarch-in-waiting. Worse, his sister Walburga married his cousin Orion, bringing her another step closer to a majority of the family fortune while putting him back in line. 

The men watched their girls hug, both of them giggling once more at their twin yawns.

“Let’s get this tired little girl home,” Remigius said, picking Hermione up. Knowing her, she’d be asleep before they made it inside Malfoy manor. The girl had a knack for falling asleep anywhere and everywhere.

December 27, 1970

“You’re quiet tonight, sweetheart,” Hyria observed as she dug her fingers into Hermione’s scalp, ensuring her special smoothing potion got into every inch of her curly hair. The elves were always beside themselves when Hyria insisted on bathing her daughter, but knowing she’d be heading off to Hogwarts next year gave her the intense urge to help out as much as she could.

“Just tired,” Hermione replied. “Mummy… do you like your hair?”

“I do. It’s not always easy to manage, but it’s unique. I also think I look silly with straight hair… I’ll show you some photos from when I was at Hogwarts.”

“You’re so pretty, mummy. I love your hair,” Hermione said with the adoration of a daughter, smiling up at the woman. “Do you think I look silly with curly hair?”

Hyria looked seriously into her daughter’s eyes. “No, my miracle. I think your hair is beautiful and suits you perfectly. Other girls put lots of potions into their hair trying to replicate yours.”

“Thank you, mummy,” Hermione replied with a soft smile. “I’m glad I look like you.”

“My little twin, I’m glad you look like me too.” Hyria said, trying not to tear up. “Why do you ask?”

“Just thinking,” Hermione said, the look in her eyes letting Hyria know that it wasn’t the full story. Knowing that Hermione couldn’t keep a secret for too long, she let it lie for the time being.

A little while later found Hermione snuggled on top of her duvet, looking at the book in front of her without reading.

“Hi princess,” Remy said as he walked into the girl’s room. “Ready to read the next chapter? Louisa’s in a bit of a bind, if I recall…”

The nightly ritual had started when the kids were tiny, a storybook an evening had evolved into a full chapter of a longer book as Hermione got older. Similarly, story time with the three children had eventually turned into the boys choosing to abstain from reading, leaving it as cherished daddy daughter time. Truthfully, Remy wouldn’t change the time for the world.

“I want to know what happens to Louisa, but… can we talk instead, daddy?” Hermione asked with an uncharacteristic nervousness her father never warranted.

“Of course, sweet pea,” Remy said as he hopped onto the bed and pulled his girl onto his lap. “Would you like cocoa before we chat?”

“No thank you, daddy.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“Daddy… I heard some words I didn’t know today,” Hermione started.

“What were they?” Remy asked. 

Hermione clicked her tongue. “I don’t know if they’re bad words.”

Remy inhaled, trying to restrain himself, but having an inkling of what was to come. “You’ll never get in trouble with me, princess. I’m glad you feel comfortable asking me questions.”

The girl let out a breath, unknowingly endearing herself to Remy even more as she relaxed at the words. He adored his prim and proper rule follower.

“What is mudblood, daddy? And what is tits?”

Remy couldn’t help but choke slightly. “Where’d you hear those words?”

“Aslan and I were reading in the ladies parlor and Roddy and the boys were talking in the game room,” the girl said, painting a clearer picture for the man. The ladies parlor was across the hall from the game room and the marble flooring caused a loud echo when the doors weren’t closed. “Roddy said ‘for a mudblood, she had nice tits,’ I think. I didn’t know those words and when I went to the library, Leppy and I couldn’t find the words in the dictionary.”

“I see,” Remy said, hand already twitching to dole out the punishment his son had in store. He wished his wife was the one having this conversation. “Those are very bad words that no one should say, not even with their friends.”

Hermione gasped innocently, “But daddy… why would Roddy say bad words?”

“Sometimes, princess, boys try to impress their friends by saying bad words. I can tell you a secret, though… saying bad words does nothing but make you look silly and get you into trouble with your parents and your professors.”

“Roddy is in trouble? Because of me?” Hermione asked, eyebrows scrunched worriedly.

“Not because of you,” Remy assured. The man always felt guilty at using his Slytherin tactics of deflection against his precious daughter, but was pleased at how they worked like a charm every time. “He knows better than to use language like that. Don’t worry about your big brother.”

“I won’t, daddy,” Hermione replied with a yawn. “Rabby was laughing, I wonder where he learned bad words.”

Remy bit back a smile at the way his innocent girl continued to unknowingly share information that further implicated her brothers. The boys were in for a fun morning once the Malfoy, Rowle and Dolohov heirs left.

“Your brothers spend too much time together when Rodolphus is home from Hogwarts,” Remy replied. “I wish they were more like my good girl, daddy would have less wrinkles.”

Hermione turned around to look at him with a surprised laugh, getting a tug on a curl for an effort.

“One of Roddy’s friends said they didn’t like curly hair on girls, but mummy says she likes our hair, so it’s okay.”

“Another secret for you, my perfect girl… boys are silly. Never trust what they say about anything.”

“Only you, daddy,” Hermione said, diving in for a hug and taking a calming breath of his cinnamon and clove scent. 

“That’s right,” Remy said, closing his eyes as he thought about the dreaded day his daughter was thrown to the wolves at Hogwarts next year. Sometimes he felt much, much older than 31.

Later that night Remy found himself reading in bed, a glass of whiskey on his side table.

“Are you going to say goodnight to the boys?” Hyria asked as she walked in, Remy looking up from his book to watch his wife strip and change into her nightgown.

Remy sighed, “I don’t know if I can without losing it, Hyrie. They’ve made a right mess of things.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Hermione overheard some boy talk today and had questions I wasn’t ready to answer,” Remy replied.

“How bad was it?” Hyria asked as she climbed into the bed, snuggling up to her husband’s side.

“Your son was relaying that a girl had nice tits for a mudblood,” Remy said deadpan.

“Where’d he learn that, Remy?” the woman asked with the same innocent, wide eyes as their daughter.

“No idea, beloved. I’ll be talking to the boys tomorrow.” 

“What did Rabastan say?” Hyria asked, protective of her youngest boy.

“He was laughing along with the joke, Hermione said. I already thought I set a standard for our boys, but I’m just going to have to reiterate it.”

“Don’t be hard on yourself, Remy,” Hyria said. “We both know how immature boys can be. I’m sure Roddy will be mortified to know his sister overheard him. He wants to set a good standard for her.”

“After we talk, I know he’ll set a good standard,” Remy muttered to himself.

“I love how protective you are,” Hyria murmured.

“I’ll do anything for my two girls,” Remy replied as he gently pulled his wife across the bed. “Let me show you.”

The man flicked his wand to shut the door and put up silencing charms, keen to let his wife know just how much of a priority she was.

\---

“Did you enjoy your time with friends, Rodolphus?” Remy asking, fingers clasped under his chin as the boys sat down in his study in front of him. “Shut the door, Rabastan.”

“Yes, father. Thank you for allowing them to spend time here,” Rodolphus replied with nervous uncertainty. He had no idea why they’d been summoned.

“I’m glad to share our home with your friends,” Remy started. “But when you bring strangers into my home, I expect them to follow the rules of the manor and meet my exacting standards. I confess myself disappointed by both of your behavior, boys.”

“I’m sorry we’ve disappointed you, father,” Rodolphus said, dropping his head submissively. 

“Would you like to share what you think I’ve called you in here for?”

“Perhaps… an elf heard us discussing something untoward,” Rodolphus said, knowing he was caught.

“Perhaps your sister heard you discussing something untoward,” Remy corrected, slightly vindicated by the panicked gasps coming from both boys.

“Father,” Rodolphus replied with the urgency of a boy who knew he was halfway in the grave. “We would never… we would never discuss something untoward if we knew Hermione was around. The boys were raised properly, we all know better.”

“Then why did you keep the game room door open as you loudly recounted, what was it… a mudblood’s tits?” Remy asked in an ice cold voice.

“Sir… I apologize. My words were below those of a Lestrange and I will take any punishment you see fit,” Rodolphus replied, head hung in shame.

Remy ignored his eldest before looking to his other son. “And Rabastan… your sister heard you laughing along with your brother’s joke. She asked me where you learned those words.”

The youngest boy groaned, slapping a hand against his forehead. “Sir, I apologize. I didn’t know she’d overhear us.”

“That’s the problem here,” Remigius said, tapping his hands on his wooden desk. “Rabastan, do you recall our conversation the first time you ended up over my lap?”

The boy’s face turned bright red. “Yes, sir. You told me… you told me that girls and boys are different. That I’m to watch out for Hermione.”

“That’s right. You and your brother failed on that miserably. What would Lord Rowle say if you were to have had this same conversation in front of Pandora? Or, Merlin forbid, if Lord Malfoy were to find out you were talking about a woman’s naked body in front of his Luna?”

“They’d take us over their lap without a second thought,” Rodolphus said quietly, ashamed.

“Correct. Be grateful I think before I act and don’t care to embarrass you in front of your friends. How do you think your poor mother feels? Your baby sister asked her if her curly hair was acceptable after hearing a boy saying he doesn’t like curls.”

“My sweet lovely,” Rodolphus muttered, a lump of guilt settling in his stomach.

“You’ll both apologize to your mother and never mention this to your sister. If she brings something up, you’ll summon me immediately. Clear?”

“Clear,” the boys replied in unison.

“Now, we’re going to resolve this and never speak of this again. If I ever hear you talk this way in front of your sister again, and believe me, I’ll find out… things will be much, much worse. Understood?”

“Understood,” the boys chimed together once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! Please let me know what you'd like to see, what edits I need to make. The gang is heading to Hogwarts next chapter! My tumblr is https://thiscitychickk.tumblr.com/ if you would like to chat fics!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is first year... I hope you enjoy!

August 31, 1971

“It wasn’t enough time,” the girl whispered, tears glistening in her cerulean eyes. “Now I’ll never live at home again.”

“You’ll be home for the hols every year, sweetheart,” Remy soothed, rocking his daughter as though she were still an infant. At the moment, he was immensely grateful to be a bigger man and similarly grateful his daughter was still a slip of a thing and fit in his arms perfectly.

“I don’t want to go,” Hermione said. “Why does anyone want to leave home forever?”

Remy swallowed the lump in his throat, “It’s part of growing up, princess. We all have to go to school to learn and make friends, and yes, eventually leave home. You have a long time before you have to worry about that, though. Your mummy and I will write every day. And don’t forget your brothers will be there with you.”

“But Rabby’s excited to go,” Hermione said with the shake of her head. “He hasn’t even read our books yet, daddy.”

“What have I told you, princess?” Remy asked in a faux whisper. “Boys are silly… that includes your brothers.”

“But not daddy,” Hermione replied, looking up as if to confirm that was still true.

“But not daddy,” Remy replied firmly.

“Daddy… what if I’m not in Slytherin?”

Remy hid the grin threatening to overtake his face- his daughter was no Slytherin, even if she was sorted in by nature of her last name. That was a fact he and Abraxas had come to grips with together over a few bottles of whiskey years earlier after the girls had shown their inability to lie or deceive for what had to be the hundredth time.

“Mummy and I have told you, sweetheart. Your house doesn’t matter to us as long as you study hard and make friends. Also, because I know my girl’s mind… don’t worry. Your brothers will love you regardless of what house you’re in.”

“Okay daddy,” Hermione replied through a yawn. “Can I sleep with you and mummy? I won’t see you for so long.”

Remy knew his wife would rib him later for melting in the face of his little princess, but he was unable to turn her down.

“Of course, princess. But one more question before we go… who’s daddy’s little girl?” the man asked, eliciting giggles and a tight hug from his most precious girl that would stay with him in the lonely days and weeks ahead.

“Me, daddy! It’s me,” Hermione replied, sighing happily as she breathed in her father’s comforting scent in the same way her mother told her she’d done since she was an infant. She’d miss these moments at Hogwarts more than words could say.

September 1, 1971

“Rodolphus, bring your sister’s trunk onto the train,” Remy instructed, feeling calmer as he spewed out directives. “Sunny has the cat and will be waiting at Hogwarts. Have a good term and keep an eye on the twins. You know your chaperone duties for your sister, and I expect you’ll see to them well. I’m proud of you, son.”

“Of course, father,” Rodolphus responded, returning his father’s handshake. “I’ll be sure to write you and mother.”

“I expect nothing less,” Remy replied. “Mother will be expecting weekly letters from you, boy. Don’t go disappointing her. We’ll see you soon.”

Next to them, an energetic Rabastan was urging his forlorn twin to let go of their mother and hop on the train.

“Rabastan Hercules, you’ll settle down right now,” Remy said with quiet authority. “Why don’t you go hop on the train? Rodolphus will escort Hermione.”

“Good idea, father!” Rabastan replied happily, not realizing that they were gently removing him from the situation. “Love you mother, goodbye father! I’ll write once I’m sorted into Slytherin.”

Hermione let out another whimper into her mother’s chest at his certainty over his sorting.

“I’m proud of you son,” Remy repeated to his youngest boy, giving him a crisp handshake. The boy gave Hyria a quick hug, causing Hermione to switch to clinging to her father.

“It’s time to get on the train, princess,” Remy instructed, voice a touch firmer than he’d normally use with his girl. “Your big brother will stay with you.”

“Okay, daddy,” Hermione replied. “I love you.”

“I love you as well, my precious girl. Give daddy and mummy kisses and then Rodolphus will escort you on the train.”

“Goodbye, mother. Goodbye father,” Rodolphus replied, grabbing the pair of trunks. “C’mon lovey, let’s go find Rab.”

“Don’t forget to write,” Hermione said as she walked alongside her older and much taller brother, looking back every few steps as though to make sure they wouldn’t leave before the train took off.

Hermione’s stomach was bubbling like a cauldron on high heat as she followed Rodolphus onto the train, subtly peering into the cabins and recognizing no one. Her parents had done well to keep their social circle relatively small throughout her life and the thought of meeting countless people was hard to take in for the eleven-year-old.

“Here we are,” Rodolphus said as he stopped in front of a compartment and dropped his own trunk to open the door. “Boys, how are we doing today?”

Hermione was relieved to see that the window was facing the families still crowding the platform and quickly moved past the boys to scout for her parents. She waved when she saw them, stomach settling when she saw Lord and Lady Malfoy had now joined them, knowing that Luna would certainly be joining them shortly. Remy was the first to spot the girl, blowing a kiss and receiving one in turn that he mimed placing into his robes.

“Hermione!” the girl heard from behind her, turning with a bright smile to welcome her best friend into the now-packed compartment.

“Luna! I found our parents,” Hermione said, not stepping away from the window, but instead pointing through the glass. The adults were all delighted and relieved to see their girls had found each other, smiling and waving as they hadn’t on their previous two trips to drop their sons off to head to Hogwarts.

“Do we have time to grab them off the train?” Abraxas murmured.

“I’m not sure I’ll make it through the evening without heading to Scotland,” Remy replied.

“Boys, they’re going to be fine,” Livana said with a smirk. “Look at Hyria and I… we survived Hogwarts and came out better for it.”

“You both came out with soon-to-be husbands, my dear,” Abraxas replied to his wife, a scowl on his face. “That’s not the reassuring thought either of us are looking for right now.”

“Unlike Ria and myself, Luna and Hermione both have protective older brothers to weed out the bad ones before they make it home to you two.” 

Hyria chuckled at the woman’s words, thinking of the dramatics to come from her three men once Hermione was interested in boys. Thankfully, she thought, the girl cared more about books than boys for the time being.

“Salazar help whatever boys get near our little girls,” Remy replied through gritted teeth.

Hermione and Luna shared an exasperated look at the boisterous quidditch talk that filled the cabin.

“We’re going to go find Narcissa,” Luna said, cutting through the debate over who would become Slytherin’s quidditch captain for a moment.

“I’ll escort you,” Lucius and Rodolphus piped up at the same moment, sharing a quick grin with each other.

“We’ll both escort you,” Rodolphus said. “Perhaps we’ll run into the trolley on the way.”

“Neat,” Luna said with a happy glint in her eyes as she looped elbows with her friend.

The quartet was happy to come across the trolley, the boys doling out money for candy.

“Rabby’s going to be jealous,” Hermione stated with a mischievous giggle.

“Be glad we got to the trolley before he did so there were still chocolate frogs left,” Rodolphus replied drily, shaking his head at his brother’s sweet tooth.

“There she is!” Luna said, stopping in front of a compartment filled with girls. Lucius and Rodolphus shared a hesitant look as they slid open the door.

“Hi Narcissa, we came to find you,” Luna said in the now quiet compartment.

“Come to join us, Heirs Lestrange and Malfoy?” Narcissa’s oldest sister asked, a cheeky glint in her eyes as she stood up and dusted off her dark purple dress.

“Miss Black, wonderful to see you,” Rodolphus said, pressing a kiss to the girl’s hand with a slight pinkening of his cheeks.

“A pleasure indeed,” Bellatrix replied with a slight giggle.

“We’re chaperoning our sisters,” Lucius replied after pressing a quick kiss to the third year’s hand. “They were looking for Narcissa. Would you mind terribly if they joined you?”

“Of course not,” Bellatrix said quickly. “They can meet some of the girls from the house early.”

Lucius and Rodolphus shared a quick look, having already received talks from their fathers about their sisters likely not being sorted into Slytherin.

“Thank you, Miss Black. That’s quite kind of you all. We’ll be back closer to arrival,” Lucius replied formally before moving back into the hallway where a trio of first year girls was huddled.

“We’re good now, Lucie,” Luna said with a smile, the nickname drawing giggles from the other girls.

“We’ll be back soon, you know where to find us if you need anything,” Rodolphus replied, leaving with a roll of his eyes once his back was turned. Little girls were so weird.

The day didn’t feel real until Hermione was huddled next to her twin at the bottom of a staircase, listening to a woman explain the sorting process.

“We’ll be okay, mine. Promise,” Rabastan said, grabbing his twin’s hand. Hermione gave him a wobbly smile, knowing how much it took for her brother to show her affection in front of others.

“Okay,” Hermione whispered back.

“It’s time to head into the Great Hall,” the stern looking woman said, her eyes tracking the group of children before turning around and leading them into the hall.

“Wow,” Hermione said quietly, looking up towards the enchanted ceiling she’d read about in Hogwarts: A History.

“Black, Narcissa!” Deputy Headmistress McGonagall called out, the girl looking to her two friends for strength before walking up.

The hat barely touched her head. “SLYTHERIN!”

She received a raucous round of applause, her sisters standing up to hug her when she drew closer to where they sat.

“Black, Sirius” was next, and Hermione hid her scowl when she realized he was the boy who’d always make nasty comments at formal events before slinking off into the background. She remembered that he had a brother a year younger than him and wished for a moment that he was in their year instead.

“GRYFFINDOR!” the hat cried out, drawing shocked gasps from across the hall. Hermione didn’t really understand the big deal, having just been assured by her parents that they’d love her regardless of what house she ended up in.

The sorting continued with no obvious surprises, and Hermione was called up after Mafalda Hopkirk skipped over to the Hufflepuff table.

Hermione let out a surprised sound as the professor plopped the large hat on her head and her vision went dark.

“Miss Lestrange… Miss Granger… the golden girl… the brightest witch of her age… Hermione. Let’s go with Hermione for now. What a mind, even at your young age. Quite different from what I had known you as before… or later, that is…”

“What do you mean?” Hermione whispered.

“Nothing, dearest. Let’s see here… there are so many lives that could and should be lived, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself as I sometimes do. You have much to learn and much to change this time around. I’m happy to know it won’t be lessons of doom and gloom this round for you, little one. A mind like yours, though… must be RAVENCLAW!”

Hermione let out a small noise of surprise, eyes immediately locking with Rabastan’s. The boy looked slightly dejected before schooling his face and giving his twin a hug and a smile. The little girl cautiously walked over to the table, relieved to see Pandora Rowle in what looked to be a sea of boys.

The hat called out Slytherin before Hermione even sat down, Rabastan making his way over to Rodolphus with a proud smile. Hermione’s mind swirled with anxiety and regret for a decision that hadn’t been hers to make.

“Hi Hermione,” Pandora said with a grin, her blonde hair braided with glittery bronze and navy ribbons. Pandora reminded Hermione a lot of Luna with her trademark golden blonde hair and calming presence.

“Hi Pandora,” Hermione replied weakly, mind racing with the hat’s comments.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Pandora exclaimed. “We never get any girls and it looks like we’ll get two today!”

The Lestrange looked up and down the table, realizing the girl was right. Only seven girls sat at the table besides her.

“What do you mean? Who else?” Hermione asked.

“Watch,” Pandora said with a smile and tip of her head towards the head’s table.

Luna pranced up to the stool, the hat only sitting on her head for a moment. “RAVENCLAW!”

“Yes!” Hermione cried happily as she clapped, hugging her dearest friend tightly once she sat down.

“I’d never leave you alone,” Luna said simply.

“Me neither,” Hermione replied in a whisper.

“Hello, ladies. May we join you?” a boy with smooth dark skin and braids in his hair asked from across the table. He was joined by a boy with caramel colored skin and an afro, both of them looking as nervous as Hermione was.

“Of course,” Pandora said, gesturing to the empty bench in front of them. “My name is Pandora Rowle.”

“I’m Luna Malfoy.”

“I’m Hermione Lestrange.”

“My name is Kingsley Shacklebolt and this is Dean Shafiq,” the boy with braids said.

“I think we’ve met before,” Dean said after a moment, light brown eyes darting between Luna and Hermione.

“I believe we have,” Luna replied serenely. “You know our brothers.”

“That’s right,” the boy said with a nod.

“I grew up in Egypt, my dad is a cursebreaker for the ministry,” Kingsley offered. “I’m excited to be around people my age for once.”

“Wicked,” Dean said, looking at the boy next to him in a new light. “Did you lot expect to be put in Ravenclaw?”

“My mum says I’ve been a leader and a reader since I was a boy, so I’m not too surprised,” Kingsley said with a slight laugh.

“I’m not sure yet,” Luna said with a contemplative look. “I think it’s a bit silly to decide who people are at eleven, so… we’ll see!”

“Cheers to that,” Dean said, holding up an empty chalice that’d just appeared on the table along with a bounty of food.

“May I pour you a beverage?” Kingsley asked the trio of girls, receiving pleased smiles and drink requests in reply. The boy was clearly raised well, only placing the drinks on the table instead of handing them to the girls, which would denote a familiarity that wasn’t there.

“And, like magic… another welcome feast has come to a close!” a man with a long white beard and eye popping purple and silver robes said from the head table a short while later. “Prefects, please show the first years to their new homes. Get some sleep, and we’ll see you all in the morning!”

“Ravenclaw first years, come this way!” a nondescript girl with light brown hair shouted above the clamor of the hall, a shiny badge pinned to her chest.

The girls waved goodbye to Pandora, promising to see her in the morning, before walking over to the girl.

“Hi first years, my name is Charity Burbage and this is Gilderoy Lockhart. We’re your seventh year prefects in Ravenclaw, and we’re so happy to have you joining us. If you’ll follow us to Ravenclaw Tower, we’d love to sit down and answer any and all of your questions,” the girl said with a kind smile. “We know Ravenclaws usually tend to have a few of those.”

“Wow,” Hermione said for what felt like the fifteenth time since she boarded the train hours ago.

“It’ll get easier to navigate Hogwarts, I promise,” Gilderoy Lockhart said to the group with a theatrical smile. Hermione tried to stop staring at him, her mom’s chastisement echoing in her head. She’d never seen a boy with a face as nice as his and found herself trying to figure out why she was so intrigued. She kept going back to his wavy hair and perfect smile.

“Now, Ravenclaw Tower is one of the highest points of the school, and we’re the west most tower in the school… So keep heading west if you’re ever lost. You’ll know you’ve found it when you see a bronze knocker in the form of an eagle. Watch how we enter,” Charity instructed with an excited smile, rapping the knocker twice.

“Ah, another welcome feast has ended. Here’s an easy riddle for our new brethren… It belongs to you, but other people use it more than you do. What is it?” the bronze eagle asked.

“Your name,” a boy with sparkling dark blue eyes exclaimed.

“Welcome to Ravenclaw,” the eagle said before the door swung open.

“Welcome to Ravenclaw indeed,” Gilderoy said, leading them into the common room with a flourish of his left arm.

The common space was perfectly circular with floor to ceiling windows surrounding the entire room, interspersed with bookshelves and fireplaces. Hermione already felt at home as she looked around, navy leather couches and chairs filled the space, facing fireplaces that were already roaring in the chill of the September sky.

“I love it,” Hermione said with a grin overtaking her face, shocked that she already found comfort in the space.

“A secret between new friends… I’ve been in every common room, and none of them are as nice as ours,” Lockhart said.

“Quite right, Gilderoy,” Charity said. “Let’s all sit down and introduce ourselves before turning in for the night.”

Hermione was surprised to find that the boy who’d answered the riddle correctly was named Colin Dumbledore, mumbling that he was the headmaster’s nephew. Benjy Fenwick, Cong Chang and Dedalus Diggle rounded up the eight first year Ravenclaws, the group eyeing one another as they contemplated the fact that they’d be living and working together for the next seven years.

“Girls, I can show you up to your dorm,” Charity said. “I’m assuming you’ll have elves waiting up there for you.”

“Oh, yes! My daddy said Sunny will be waiting here. I hope she got dinner,” Hermione trailed off nervously.

The seventeen-year-old smiled at the little girls in front of her, reminiscing on the way she had the same conversation with Verity Bagman, her only dorm mate, on her first day. She looked forward to seeing the pair in front of her grow into themselves on their own two feet.

Dear daddy,

I hope you hear it from me first, but I was sorted into Ravenclaw. I wish you had told me how interesting the sorting hat was. It said some weird things to me… Do you know what any of this means? I think I have it all down- thank you for giving me your good memory, daddy. 

“Miss Lestrange. Miss Grainjur (?)… the golden girl… the brightest witch of her age… Let’s go with Hermione for now. What a mind, even at your young age. Quite different from what I had known you as before or should I say after.

Let’s see here… there are so many lives that could and should be lived, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself as I often do. You have much to learn and much to change this time around. I’m happy to know it won’t be lessons of doom and gloom this round for you, little one. A mind like yours must be Ravenclaw.”

Quite odd, I think. If you know what that means, maybe you could write? Or come visit me.

Luna and I are the only girls in our year, it’ll be like a sleepover every night. I promised mummy in my letter that we wouldn’t stay up too late. Sunny is here with me and Luna’s elf Nala is with her, and we know they’ll make us go to sleep. I’m going to see if I can learn why there are not many girls in Ravenclaw tomorrow unless you or mummy already know.

I didn’t get to see Rabby or Roddy before I went to bed, and I’m a bit sad. I’ve never gone to sleep without hugging them. Or you or mummy.

I’ll write again in the morning when I wake up… I love you so much daddy. I miss you. Please tell me when the first parents day is.

Your Hermione

The girl was grateful to have Sunny there to apparate home with her letters and couldn’t help but tear up when the elf returned and gave her a big hug, saying it was from her parents.

“How am I both sad and happy? Has that ever happened to you?” Hermione asked Luna as she laid out her writing supplies and books on her desk, one eye over her shoulder to make sure Aslan didn’t hop on her desk and knock everything over. 

The girls’ room was quite large, clearly suited for more than two people. Their elves let them know that they’d traded out the linens Hogwarts had provided for the ones that they used in their bedrooms back home after heading back to their manors and checking in with their mothers on the quality of the fabrics. Both girls giggled, knowing how horrified the women would have been over whatever Hogwarts deemed acceptable. Hermione felt warm and fuzzy knowing that she’d have a piece of home with her.

“Not until now,” the girl replied. “Things will be better tomorrow… the first night is going to be the worst, daddy said.”

“I miss my daddy,” Hermione sighed. “I miss the boys. Do you think they’re thinking about us?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Luna replied, musing over the question. “I’m sure Lucie and Rodolphus are. Rabastan is probably busy getting to know his dorm mates better. He’ll be sad once he’s in bed.”

“Time for little misses to take their baths,” Sunny said as she popped into the room. “We is getting our girls on a good schedule!”

“There are baths at Hogwarts now?” Luna asked brightly. “Lucius said they had to take showers, mummy made me practice.”

“We is… having redone your bathroom,” Nala said with a cheeky grin. “Our precious little misses is not taking these standing baths. We is telling masters about changes and they is very pleased.”

The girls let out a squeal when they walked into their bathroom, the expansive space clearly large enough for six girls although it now suited the pair.

The girls’ respective elves helped bathe them behind privacy screens while they spoke across the white tiled bathroom.

Only a short while later they were dressed in their nightgowns and letting their elves know they didn’t need cocoa as their beds were turned down.

Hermione was crawling into bed when a loud banging noise erupted from their window, causing both girls to shriek.

“Sunny is protecting young misses, no worries,” Hermione’s elf said as she made her way over to the window and let out an exasperated groan. “What is you crazy boys doing? Get in here right now!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Rodolphus said panting as he plopped his broom on the ground, the two boys coming in the window behind him following his lead. “We didn’t know if this would even work.”

“Oh my, what are you all doing here?” Hermione asked, squealing as she hopped out of bed and ran over to hug her brothers.

“I told you they were thinking of us,” Luna replied as she hugged her own brother tightly.

“We couldn’t go to bed without seeing you, lovey. You girls doing okay?” Rodolphus asked, letting out a whistle as he looked around the room.

“Your room is way nicer than mine,” a surly Rabastan said with a playful tug on one of Hermione’s curls.

“Is it all right, Rabby?” Hermione asked concernedly. 

“Don’t worry mine, I’m just joking,” Rabastan replied with a smile. “Zeppo brought me linens from home, the ones they gave us felt like hippogriff talons.”

The girls laughed at his dramatics.

“Roddy, why are there only a few girls in Ravenclaw?”

“Well, Ravenclaw is the smart house… not many girls care much for being smart, I think,” the boy said with a shrug.

“He’s right,” Lucius interjected. “Most girls aren’t smart enough to be in Ravenclaw… mother and father are going to be so proud, little moon.”

“Thank you,” Luna said with a happy gleam in her eyes. “You boys should go… we don’t want you getting caught up here.”

“Love you, my lovey,” Rodolphus murmured into Hermione’s hair, hugging his little sister who seemed even littler to him every day.

“Love you too, Roddy. Thank you for coming,” Hermione whispered. “I missed you.”

“We’ll come see you every night,” Rodolphus replied, not making that decision until he saw his sister’s unsure expression. “Dream some sweet dreams.”

“C’mere,” Rabastan said, pulling his twin into his arms. “Love you, mine. We’ll have classes where we’ll sit together and you can do my homework for the ones we don’t.”

“You wish, Rab,” Hermione said with a laugh, tickling his stomach. “I love you too. Make friends with your dorm mates… you’ll have to introduce me to them tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Rabastan said. “They all seem like good blokes.”

“Goodnight, Rabastan,” Luna said with a small smile aimed at the boy. 

“Night, Luna the moona,” the boy retorted, everyone rolling their eyes at the juvenile nickname he’d coined years ago when he first realized the meaning of the girl’s name.

“Be safe! I’ll be so mad if you boys hurt yourself,” Hermione instructed, climbing back into her bed.

“Never,” Rodolphus said confidently, tucking his sister in as he’d seen his father do countless times before. “We’re too good at flying for that.”

“Famous last words,” Hermione muttered, smiling as her brother gave her hand a final squeeze and flew off into the night.

“I feel much better now,” Luna said happily. “Goodnight, Hermione.”

“Night Luna,” Hermione replied. “See you in the morning.”

September 2, 1971

Good morning princess,

I hope you slept well and were able to see your brothers this morning. We finally received a letter from your twin around midnight- you’ll need to ensure he’s getting sleep and keeping up with his schoolwork.

Quite peculiar words from the sorting hat indeed, darling. My first year, Dorea Black Potter sat up on the stool for a good four minutes. I’ve heard it gave her similarly vague comments about being a snake that’d end up dwelling in the lion's den… as you know now, she’s married to Charlus Potter, a family that’s notorious for landing in Gryffindor. Perhaps you’ll learn why the hat said what it did at some point like she did.

As for why there are more boys in Ravenclaw… forgive my imprudence, princess, but many girls don’t seem to prioritize intelligence and creativity in their lives. You have always been smart and quick on your feet- you will do well as a Ravenclaw. I’m proud of you.

I know that mummy sent you a trunk full of Ravenclaw regalia today, but I’ve included something as well. My great great aunt Somnelia is the only Lestrange woman to have been sorted into Ravenclaw until today. Her father was quite proud and had this made piece for her, and now it’s yours.

If you find yourself in need of something or discover that Hogwarts has provided something inadequate, please write me or your mother. Sunny is also there to serve you, as much as you like to fuss over her. She’ll be sad if you don’t allow her to help.

Daddy loves you and looks forward to hearing about your first day. We shall be seeing you the last week of September, likely that Saturday. Abraxas and the school governors are still solidifying the date with Headmaster Dumbledore.

Lots of love,

Daddy

Hermione carefully opened the small leather box that accompanied her father’s letter, gasping as she saw the beautiful barrette inside. The clip was set on a bronze plate with a host of navy blue diamonds that matched her house color perfectly. The girl smiled as she clipped back the right side of her hair, knowing that it would likely get into her face when she started taking notes in classes.

“So pretty, Hermione,” Luna said with a smile. “It looks like we’ve been Ravenclaws forever with the amount of blue and bronze in our wardrobe now.”

The girls woke up to identical bronze trunks sitting at the foot of their beds, large navy bows adorning the tops of both of them.

“Ladies Hyria and Liv is bringing gifts,” Nala said with a proud smile and snap of her fingers.

The trunks opened to show what looked to be every piece of Ravenclaw outfittery a girl could have. Hermione was relieved to see the variety of dresses and skirts her mom had included, truthfully horrified to see how many of the older girls had chosen to wear pants yesterday.

The girls got dressed, both of them giggling when they realized they’d both put on identical long-sleeve, knee-length navy dresses with a ring of bronze around the bottom. Hyria let Hermione know prior to leaving for school that the Hogwarts dress code was more of a recommendation than a stipulation and as long as her clothes were appropriate and house-colored, she wouldn’t get into trouble. It looked to her as though Luna and her mother had the same conversation.

“I’m so hungry,” Hermione said. “Every time I don’t drink cocoa before bed I wake up feeling like I could eat five dragons.”

“I’m not sure they serve dragon for breakfast, but let’s go check,” Luna said with a giggle, the girls heading down the stairs.

“Ladies, I hope you slept well. Ready for day one?” Kingsley asked, waiting with the other first year boys.

“We’re ready,” Hermione said, a smile on her face as they navigated the castle and finally made it to the Great Hall.

“How have the seventh years walked that much for six years?” Hermione asked with a pant, daintily climbing over the bench to sit down.

“It’ll get easier with exercise and repetition,” Colin said, sitting down across from them.

“What’s exercise?” Luna asked, a blonde eyebrow raised.

The boy looked shocked at the question. “Um… it’s like… getting stronger, I guess? For example… walking a lot makes you tired at first, yeah? But the more you walk, the less tired you get. And you’ll also get skinnier or more muscular.”

“I didn’t know any of that,” Dean said honestly.

“Me mum’s a muggle,” Colin said with a light blush and defensive looks at those around him.

“My father is too,” Cong Chang replied, making it the most Hermione had heard the boy talk since they’d met.

“Doesn’t matter much to me,” Kingsley replied. “Magic is magic. Anyways, muggle food is pretty good. I had a hotdog in America and man… that was good.”

“If you like hotdogs wait until you try my grandma’s fried rice,” Cong said with a smile, melting as though the boy’s approval meant the world to him.

“I won’t forget that offer,” Kingsley said back.

Hermione found the entire exchange confusing. Of course she knew that muggles existed, but she’d never heard of them marrying witches and wizards. Were they actually allowed to share the fact that they were magical with muggles? She started mentally noting the questions she’d ask her big brother next time she was alone with him.

“Good morning, first years! My name is Filius Flitwick and I’m your head of house and charms professor. I have your schedules right here… Welcome to our humble house,” a jovial man said, standing about the height of the bench that the students were currently sat on.

“Ah, Misses Malfoy and Lestrange. Quite a pleasant surprise to have you both join us! Welcome, welcome, welcome,” the man said as he handed over their schedules before hobbling over to the second years with his wobbling stack of parchments.

“We’ve got double charms this morning and double herbology this afternoon… why do we have astronomy on our longest day? What sense does that make?” Hermione muttered to herself as she poured over the schedule.

“Seems sort of silly, doesn’t it? At least we have Charms with Slytherin this morning,” Luna said with a smile.

“More like, at least tomorrow’s Friday,” Benjy Fenwick said with a smile. The boy had tan skin as though he’d spent the summer somewhere warm, complementing his green eyes and golden brown hair.

“That too,” Kingsley said with a nod. “Ready to head to class?”

“Off we go,” Luna said brightly, standing up and dusting her dress off.

Hermione looked over and caught Rodolphus’ gaze, receiving a wave over from the boy.

“We’ll meet you there,” Hermione said with a smile and wave to the boys.

“Girls, how’d you sleep?” Rodolphus asked the duo with a smile, putting down his fork and knife. Next to him, Rabastan continued eating, thankfully with the manners he was raised with unlike some of the other boys around the Great Hall. 

“Quite well, I’m glad we don’t have anyone else in our room,” Hermione admitted honestly.

“We stayed up late, mine,” Rabastan moaned dramatically after swallowing a mixture of eggs, bacon and potatoes. “I’m so tired.”

“Too bad we have astronomy past dark tonight,” Hermione replied. “You need to take your sleep schedule seriously.”

“I know, I know,” Rabastan replied.

“Let’s get to class,” Hermione said. “We don’t want to be late on our first day.”

“What class do you have?” Lucius asked.

“Charms with Slytherin,” Hermione replied. 

“Nice,” Lucius replied. “You lot should think about leaving, Professor Flitwick’s classroom is a bit of a walk.”

“C’mon, Rab, let’s get some exercise,” Luna said cheerily. The third years exchanged confused looks, unsure of how the girl knew of a term they’d only learned once they started quidditch training. “Hermione’s grabbing Narcissa now.”

The little blonde was relieved to see Hermione over her shoulder and immediately grinned.

“Hi Narcissa, would you like to head to charms with us?” the girl asked with a smile and wave towards Andromeda who was sat across the table.

“I’d love to,” the girl said, standing up and hefting her bag over her shoulder.

“Take good care of her,” Andromeda said with a wink before turning back to her parfait.

Narcissa groaned, causing Hermione to giggle.

“I always wanted a sister,” Hermione mused.

“A sister… two is too many,” Narcissa replied with a small laugh.

“May I take your bags, ladies,” Rabastan said with a dramatic bow.

“Yes, Rabby, thank you. Hi Finn, how are you,” Hermione said with a look up to the boy who was already towering over them.

“‘Lo pipsqueak, I’m well. Glad you can keep my big sis company in the land of nerds,” Thorfinn Rowle said, drawing a crude snort from Rabastan.

“I’m not sure I can say the same about you living with my brother,” Hermione replied with a sniff, the raucous boy always bringing her irritation out.

“Let’s get going,” Luna interrupted serenely, swinging her now free arms by her side as Thorfinn picked up her bag.

“Bye Roddy,” Hermione said with a smile, heading out of the hall and hoping they’d be able to find the classroom with no trouble.

“Good morning and welcome to your first Hogwarts class!” the stout professor said once he’d taken a seat on top of his desk. “My name is Professor Flitwick and I’ll be your Charms professor while you’re a student here. I’m sure you’re all excited to finally use your wands, is that right?”

A chorus of excited cheers sounded in the room, and Hermione ran a reverent finger along her vine wood and dragon heartstring wand, remembering the joy of the moment she’d first put it in her hand.

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint you all,” the man said, a smiling peeking out from behind his mustache. 

Hermione’s stomach fluttered when she saw her feather begin to rise, glancing quickly around the room and realizing she was the first to perform the spell.

“Miss Lestrange! Wonderful job, 10 points to Ravenclaw,” Professor Flitwick said happily.

A black haired boy was next to receive points, this time for Slytherin. Unlike Hermione, though, he barely reacted when the professor praised him, his lips remaining in a thin line as he concentrated on his black feather.

The girl was frustrated when she didn’t have time to congratulate the boy and introduce herself and committed to doing so when she had a moment.

It was windy and cold as the girls walked to Herbology, and Hermione was grateful for the fur-lined cloak her mother had gifted her that morning.

“I’m quite excited for Herbology,” Luna said with a smile. “Hopefully I’ll learn something new!”

“I’m sure you will,” Hermione replied, readjusting her bag over her shoulder, not having realized how heavy it was when the boys were the ones lugging it around. “Roddy says Professor Sprout is brilliant.”

“I’m sure, she grows most of the potions ingredients they use here at Hogwarts,” Luna replied.

The girls were two of the first in the greenhouse and took seats on stools in the front of the classroom. Black desks were sat around the classroom and Hermione peered curiously through the transparent door that led to a plant-filled greenhouse.

“Can I sit here?” a girl with red hair and pale skin asked, pointing to the seat to Hermione’s left.

“Of course,” Hermione said with a smile. “My name is Hermione.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Lily Evans,” the girl replied, plopping her bag onto the table

“Hi Lily, my name is Luna. Are you enjoying your first day?”

“It’s… a lot to take in. I’m not sure how some people are acting like all of this is normal,” the girl said, letting out a breath.

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“Magic? Talking hats? Moving staircases? It’s like… something out of a movie. My friend Sev told me about some of this, but wow,” Lily replied animatedly.

“What’s a movie?” Luna asked, intrigued.

Lily giggled, “You’ve never seen a movie?”

“I’ve never even heard of one,” Luna replied, just as kindly.

“What country did you grow up in?” Lily asked.

“England,” Luna said with a giggle.

“Then how don’t you know about TVs?”

“They’ve never met muggles before,” Colin said as he slid onto a stool behind them. “My name is Colin Dumbledore, are you a Gryffindor?”

“I am a Gryffindor, and my name’s Lily,” the red head replied, feeling her chest tighten as she came to grips with the uphill climb ahead of her.

September 25, 1971

Hermione had a lot of questions for her parents. She felt like her first month at Hogwarts was spent wondering what was going on and then looking around why no one else was asking questions.

Magical people were born to muggles?

Some girls didn’t have elves in the dorms with them?

Slytherins was considered evil by other houses?

The girl had to laugh a little when she realized that her marks were perfect, but she felt like her social understanding was at a bar lower than she thought possible for someone who’d learned from the world’s best tutors.

“Ready to see your parents?” Kingsley asked as they made their way to the Great Hall.

“I can’t wait,” Dean said with a smile. 

“I wish my ma could come here,” Colin said with a sigh.

“Same with my father,” Cong said, similarly forlorn.

“Why can’t they come?” Luna asked.

The pair of boys shared a stormy look.

“Because they’re muggles,” Colin said, voice less friendly than normal.

Hermione and Luna shared a look of their own and didn’t reply. They’d learned quickly that their schoolmates at Hogwarts were less inclined to answer their questions than their brothers and parents.

The brunette’s spirit was buoyed when she saw her father’s tall figure from across the hall, standing regally while his eyes quickly searched the students walking into the hall.

She was hard-pressed to walk when her daddy was so close, but she knew her mummy would be disappointed if she broke into a sprint. So she walked like the pureblood girl she was.

“Daddy!” Hermione said, voice muffled in the man’s expensive robes as she launched herself into his arms.

“Princess,” Remy cooed into her hair. He lifted his only daughter onto his hip, pressing a kiss onto her forehead before squeezing her tightly again.

“Hello, my miracle,” Hyria cooed, receiving a squeeze from the happy girl.

“Mother, father,” Rodolphus said with a smile as he and Rabastan located the pair. The boys shared a look at the affronted noise their sister made when Remy tried to set her down and settled for a handshake from the man. Hyria was more than happy to hug her boys tightly in his stead.

“Good morning, families of Hogwarts!” Dumbledore’s voice boomed, cutting through the conversations taking place. “We’re so happy to have you back on our hallowed grounds for the day. Please make use of our private rooms as well as the activities set up around the first floor of the castle. May your day be enjoyable, memorable and nonflammable!”

“Let’s snag a private room,” Remy suggested, walking out of the room after the boys looped their arms in their mother’s. He knew from experience that the good rooms went fast on family visit days.

“How is school going so far, my darlings?” Hyria asked once they were settled in an unused classroom that’d been transformed for the day. Remy was lounging in a leather chair with Hermione perched on his lap, the girl making happy snuffling noises like she was the cat that got the cream.

“Second year is going well,” Rodolphus started. “Professor McGonagall said that my softening charm was the best in our entire year. She told me that if I keep my marks up, she’ll take me for private lessons next year.”

“That’s wonderful, son. Transfiguration is a tough magic to master,” Remy said with a nod towards the boy.  
“Wow,” Hyria said with a happy smile. “How wonderful! You’ll have to keep us updated, I remember how difficult transfiguration gets second year.”

“Yeah,” the boy said with an eager nod. “We’re starting on beavers and ducks next week, some of the girls are already moaning about large animals being in the classroom.”

“We only get to play around with frogs and mice,” Rabastan muttered.

“We aren’t playing with them,” Rodolphus and Hermione said at the same time, the pair giggling at their twin thoughts.

“Do we eat at these things?” Rabastan asked, changing the subject to one that was always on his mind. Hermione rolled her eyes and cuddled closer to her father.

“How’s my princess doing today?” Remy asked, relishing the feeling of holding his daughter again after a month.

“I have questions, daddy,” Hermione replied honestly.

“I hope I have answers.”

“Why aren’t muggle parents allowed to visit today?” she asked.

“Well, muggles aren’t allowed to visit Hogwarts. It’s dangerous for them to be around the castle’s magic.”

“So what will Lily do today?” she asked, brow furrowed.

“Your muggleborn friend? She’ll spend it like any other Saturday, I presume,” Remy replied, not having thought deeply about this before.

“So she just doesn’t get to see her mummy and daddy all year?” the girl asked, voice wobbling.

“Don’t forget about the holidays, sweet pea. She’ll see them before you know it,” Remy said soothingly.

“I don’t like that one bit,” Hermione said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Tell me about your classes,” Remy suggested, very much wanting the topic to switch. A righteous Hermione was never one he wanted to encourage, especially when he wasn’t able to keep an eye on her.

“They’re good,” Hermione replied. “It’s hardly fair that I started learning when I was little and some people have only known about magic for a few months.”

Remy pressed a kiss to her hair, “Don’t knock your success, darling. You’re a smart girl, and your upbringing doesn’t negate that.”

Hermione swallowed her many retorts and cuddled closer to the man. She didn’t want arguments to taint the only time she had with her parents this month… her thoughts could wait until Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty surface level and skimmy - next chapter will move us along with small excerpts from second to fifth year. I just wanted to lay the groundwork of the story and the characters. I hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> I continuously go back to make edits to my fics and fill in any plot holes because I’m meticulous and my own worst critic. Please let me know if you see anything wrong.
> 
> Also, if you want to beta for either of my fics, let me know! I need help! Find me on tumblr at thiscitychickk


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